

## Meet the Author

Charles Thomas is a novelist, screenwriter, producer, and podcaster in the Atlanta area. Check out his work at atlantascreenwriter.com and his production company hootyhooproductions.com. Also, make sure to check out his podcast Atlanta Film Chat at atlantafilmchat.com, where you'll find tons of interviews with filmmakers, studio owners, politicians, and many others associated with the Georgia film industry. You can find his first novel "Brine" at  Crossroad Press.

Dedicated to Uncle Frank

This book was written to the music of Scar Symmetry, Avantasia, Kamelot, Swallow the Sun, Lacuna Coil, and Katatonia.

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## Prologue

"I know it was here. Right here." Her ancient fingernails tap on the faded dresser.

Miss Ivy Turner's face is nowhere near as ancient as her fingernails, and neither is her mind. She knows she just had the picture of her great-granddaughter graduating from high school right where it always was, next to her crochet needles and the box of receipts from her trips to the store. She enjoys cataloging everything, which made it all the more baffling how her picture could've vanished.

"Right here, I tell you." She taps again. She considers looking around the room but there's nowhere else it would be.

As she walks by Miss Turner's room, Nurse Manning hears the tapping and pops her head in. "Somethin' wrong, Miss Turner ma'am?"

Miss Turner doesn't turn around, intent on figuring out the mystery. "Oh, I know I left it right here, is all."

Nurse Manning walks into the room, concerned. "Left what, Miss Turner?"

"Stacy's picture was here, right where it belongs," Miss Turner says. "Now it's not here."

"Stacy your great-granddaughter?"

Miss Turner shoots a look at Nurse Manning. "What other Stacy would I mean?"

Nurse Manning puts her hands on her hips. "Ain't no reason to get snippy, now," she says. "I'm sure it fell down or somethin'. Bound to be round here somewhere."

"No ... it wouldn't be anywhere else." More tapping.

Nurse Manning gently stops her. "You gon' break a nail. I'll help you look, right after you take your meds." She hands her a small cup full of pills which Miss Turner gulps down.

"Ok. Done." She hands the cup back to Nurse Manning.

"Very good. Now ..." Nurse Manning kneels down and looks below the dresser and around the sides. "Uck. They need to get in here and sweep up. Nasty."

She keeps looking, checking drawers and beneath the bed. Miss Turner watches her and shakes her head. _There's no reason it would be anywhere else_ , she thinks. She _knows_.

A fresh-faced RN walks by and sees Nurse Manning underneath the bed. "Nurse? You ok?"

"Yes," Nurse Manning says from beneath the bed, "just helpin' Miss Turner look for something."

"She dry?"

Nurse Manning crawls out from under the bed. "Miss Turner? You need a diaper change?"

"No. Thank you."

The RN nods.

"Better check Mister Daddy," Nurse Manning says, sitting on the bed to rest, "I think it's been a while since anybody checked on him."

"Oh good," the RN says, "Mister Let-Me-Check-My-Butthole-with-My-Fingers goes unchecked."

Nurse Manning shoots the RN a look and cuts her eyes over at Miss Turner. The RN rolls her eyes and leaves to check on Mister Daddy.

Nurse Manning needn't have worried. Miss Turner was far too busy staring out the window, staring at her hometown of Fairburn.

Fairburn is a town where you live to tell everyone you "live in Atlanta" but you never actually go into the city. Too scary. Instead, you get the usual talks of "so much traffic!" and "I don't know how you put up with it!" but none of that in real life. Instead, it's like any other small town in Georgia with its one big claim to fame that it's the home of the Georgia Renaissance Festival, another place to pretend you're something you're not.

Like most other small towns in the state, Fairburn has its fair share of fast food restaurants, dying mom & pop stores, and abandoned factories and plants. Fairburn is also home to many nursing homes, including Golden Valley. Just down the road is the high school where, just one year ago, Stacy had graduated. Not top of her class, not the bottom, but right square in the middle, and that was just fine with Miss Turner.

But all of that is furthest from her mind now that the picture of that wonderful day has vanished into thin air. While Miss Turner's mind is strong, she is still up in years, and more and more of her past slips away with every day. In fact, all she can remember of Stacy's graduation is that picture, and now it's gone.

"... nap?"

Miss Turner realizes Nurse Manning is talking to her. "What was that now?"

"I said ain't it about time for your nap?"

"Oh ... I suppose it is." Now that Nurse Manning said it out loud, she does feel quite tired. The pills take effect swiftly. She was worried about something just now, but she can't quite place it.

"Come on and lay  down now," Nurse Manning says, pulling the sheets back for her.

"What was I worried about just now?" Miss Turner says as she lies down and gets comfy.

"Nothing that can't be solved by a nice nap, now."

Miss Turner closes her eyes as Nurse Manning turns out the lights. "Perhaps you're right."

"I know I am. See you in a few hours, Miss Turner." She closes the door.

Miss Turner dreams of her youth, of telling her father one day she'll explore the world, of running through soft grass as she and her future husband chase each other by the railroad tracks, of children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and then she dreams of nothing.

## Chapter 1

Gerald Trimmings, field reporter and sometimes news anchor for WATL, adjusts his sharp blue tie as it blows in the wind. He sips his Starbucks and noisily sighs so everyone around can hear him.

"Unbelievable," he says, turning to dramatically look out at the passing cars. Peachtree Street was busy as it always was this early in the morning. A rare horn blares as someone finally got fed up enough to slam on it. The morning light shines off a nearby building, making Gerald squint. In his mind it makes him look heroic.

"What, Jerry?" Manny Fisher, Gerald's cameraman for this morning's story, says as he checks his equipment. Manny has done a number of stories with Gerald and has grown accustomed to his huffings and puffings.

"They ran out of milk. Milk!" Gerald takes another sip and scoffs. "What kind of coffee place does that?"

"A busy one, I imagine," Manny says. Everything looks in order. Just in case, he unzips the large duffel bag near him to see if the extra SD cards are in there. He didn't want to make that mistake again. Yep, there they are.

"Ridiculous," Gerald says, taking another dramatic sip. "Almost as ridiculous as this story. What an absolute crock this is. How did we get stuck on this?"

"I can't imagine," Manny says, hoisting everything for the trip. "Ready?"

"Where's ..."

"I'm all set, you guys," Anne Simons, field producer for WATL and also no stranger to the prima donna Gerald Trimmings, says as she hops out of the news van covered in bags. With all the layoffs at news stations lately they kept asking her to do more and more, which meant double the bags she had to carry. Her no-nonsense bandana shines brightly in the sun.

Anne joins Manny and Gerald to look up at the run-down apartment building they were about to ascend.

"People really live here?" Gerald says.

"Yeah, Jerry, people live here," Manny says. "Not everybody can afford whatever mansion you stay in."

"Pfft. Well, I suppose that's true," Gerald says. He takes another sip of his coffee and throws it away. "Blech. Remind me to get a coffee from a real place when we head back. Ready for the trek?"

"Lead away."

The subject today is one Ethel Murmen. This old apartment building has an elevator system but today it's under construction. Anne wonders how the older residents are supposed to get around and figures the owners don't care.

_That's a better story_ , she thinks.

The team begins the walk up the stairs. Gerald hears every creak and groan of the old building and the decaying wood and begins to sweat profusely.

"Cut that out, Gerald," Anne says.

"What?" he says, already out of breath.

"Sweating. That's going to mess up the shot," she says.

"How am I supposed to stop sweating?"

"You'll figure it out."

Manny laughs, taking a second to readjust his equipment. "What the hell floor do we need?"

"It's on the third," Anne says. She waves to an elderly resident of the complex. They don't wave back.

"Ugh," Gerald says through gritted teeth. Manny laughs again.

"Do you need any help?" Anne says to Manny.

"Nah, I'm good. Do you need any help?" Anne shakes her head. "Gerald, you need any help?"

Gerald waves his bags-free hands around. "Quit talking to me right now."

Manny laughs again.

They reach the third floor. A short walk down a dirty hallway littered with trash reveals Apartment 308, their ultimate destination. Anne walks up to knock on the door, but Gerald stays her hand.

"Whoa, whoa," he says. "Just ..." He holds up a finger and takes a deep breath. A light flickers overhead as he takes out a comb from his coat pocket and adjusts his wavy blond hair. Manny and Anne patiently wait. Finally, Gerald nods.

Anne knocks on the door. From inside, they hear a soft coo and the shuffling of elderly feet. The door opens and there stands Ethel Murmen: tiny, shriveled, wrinkled, with curly blue-tinted hair, a pink housecoat, and enormous glasses that swallow her face and bug out her eyes.

As soon as Ethel is in sight, Gerald pulls a switch inside his brain to go into superstar mode. He flashes his brightest smile and his nasal, annoyed voice turns into a powerful boom.

"Ethel Murmen! Gerald Trimmings, WATL," Gerald says, shaking her hand.

"Oh my goodness! It _is_ you! I called my sister Ruthy up and told her you were coming over and she didn't believe me. Wow!" She steps back to let them in. "Please come in, don't mind the mess."

Gerald walks in first. "Very nice, Ethel. Are you looking for a roommate?"

Ethel giggles. "No, hardly enough room for me really."

Manny rushes inside to drop off the equipment. Anne walks in and closes the door behind her. "Hi, Ethel, I'm Anne, the producer of this segment."

"What do you do? What's a producer?"

"Anne runs the show," Gerald says. "No Anne, no news!"

Ethel's jaw drops. "Is that true?"

"Gerald's exaggerating a little," Anne says.

"Oh! Do you want tea? I have Earl Grey. That's what the English drink, at least that's what Ruthy says." Ethel shuffles over to the kitchen, which is tragically close to the front door and the bathroom. "What do you say? Tea?"

"No thanks, we're not here for tea, Ethel," Gerald says, looking out the window. Down the street he can see a small "park," really a triangle of green in the middle of the concrete sea.

"I'd like some," Manny says, setting up the camera. "I love Earl Grey."

"Do you?" Anne says. "I didn't know that." Manny grins.

"Oh! Good! A tea drinking buddy. Tea tea tea, I love tea," Ethel sing-songs as she puts the kettle on.

"While that heats up, Ethel, can I help you get camera-ready?"

"Well, I put on my best housecoat, as Ruthy told me that would be enough," Ethel says.

"I see that, and it is a nice housecoat," Anne says, "but maybe you have a nice dress you'd like to put on instead? Remember, it's your time to shine."

"That's true. You would know, because you run the show!" Ethel walks into her bedroom. "You can come show me what I should wear, how about that?"

"Sounds good. You boys keep working while we're in here!" Anne points to Manny and Gerald, suppressing a smile.

"You're going to give her a big head," Manny says to Gerald. "I'm all set, want to do a test?"

"Great." Gerald walks over and grabs the microphone from Manny.

"And ..." Manny raises a finger and then points it at Gerald.

"Test, test," Gerald says, practicing a few facial expressions. "Testing the sound, test, test, watermelon, watermelon."

Manny nods. "I think that's a record time for me setting up."

"Great. Here we go, then. Time to report on the end of the world."

## Chapter 2

There are times in Jay Clive's life when he can't tell if he's seeing real life or just a hallucination. There's a nagging feeling in the back of his head that he isn't doing anything himself, merely just reacting to someone controlling him. Like a physical presence from just behind the back of his head.

Right now is one of those moments. He's staring at his crappy television in his filthy living room surrounded by sleeping friends after an all-night rager, watching an old man talking about complete nonsense. Jay is sure he isn't still high considering his tolerance is through the roof and it doesn't take much for him to come down anymore. Still, he checks his heart rate to double-check—yeah, pretty normal.

"It started off with little things here and there," the old man on the TV says. "Just walking around town I can tell some things are off. But I didn't know who to tell."

"You said there was a butcher shop here?" an off-screen reporter says.

"That's right," the old man says. "Just right over there." He points over his shoulder where there's just an empty space between two other buildings. "Power's Meats. Went there for years. Had really great lambchops. But now it's gone, and what's more, I saw the owner Miles the other day just wandering around in front of the shop. Like he knew to come here but wasn't sure why, you know?"

"Certainly, a strange thing to report, sir," the reporter says. "And difficult to prove."

"True. Like I said, I didn't know who to tell."

Jay flips through the channels to make sure he isn't watching some movie or show. Nope, it's the right channel, Channel 3. Jay doesn't care about the news that much, but it makes great background noise when he's getting ready to go out. Makes his routine seem much more important, somehow.

"My sister lived over in that neighborhood for years, Jim," the sharply dressed news anchor says when Jay flips back. "Gotta tell you, never saw a butcher shop there. In fact, I don't believe any shop was ever in that spot. It was always empty."

Jay grabs his keys off the coffee table in front of the couch. Everyone else is still passed out, so he's alone in seeing this.

"What a load," he says.

"That's true," the field reporter says into the camera. Jay feels like he's talking directly to him. "Difficult to believe, and there are no official records of a Power's Meats or anything ever being in this spot. However, we have received other—"

Jay turns the TV off. Time to go to work. He throws on his leather jacket, combs back his greasy black hair, and heads out.

He has a few minutes to spare so he strolls down the street instead of his usual sprint. Ryu always told him he would've made a great horse in another life. It certainly sounded nice, being able to gallop around fields and shit anywhere you want. He isn't sure which part of that sounds better.

He crosses the street without checking for traffic, figuring they will stop. Luckily for him there are no cars coming anyway. He spies The Spin Cycle laundry and that awful doughnut place that opened recently just down the street. Between them is an empty spot and Jay wonders if some other shop vanished into thin air like the old man said.

"What a load," Jay says again.

He decides to cut between these buildings to head over to Piedmont Park. It's strangely full for a midday Tuesday, but Jay knows where all the hidden spots are anyway and has directed his latest customer to meet him at one such spot. He waves to a young couple jogging on the track. They enthusiastically wave back.

He walks over to the lake. With all the wind it's full of waves, and they remind him of his grandfather's home and the pond behind it. Jay always pretended a monster was about to erupt out of the waves and he was the only one who could fight it off. The monster never came, though.

The lakeside winds over near a bridge, but instead of walking across it Jay heads down beneath it, double-checking that nobody sees him. For a second, he thinks he sees that same couple again, but it was just an optical illusion with some branches waving in the wind.

He climbs down the rocks to reach the supports. A rock slips out from underneath him and tumbles down the hill. Jay almost joins it in its tumbling journey, but he manages to steady himself.

The noise of the rocks makes a pale, scruffy man appear from behind the bridge support. He waves Jay over.

"Come on, man, come on," the scruffy man says.

"Shut the fuck up," Jay says, walking down the rest of the hill.

"You're late."

"Like hell. I told you 12:30. It's 12:25."

The scruffy man scratches his neck. Jay sees it's extremely red.

"Shit, man, I always heard be ten minutes early or you're late."

"You heard wrong," Jay says. "You got the dough? It stinks down here."

"I don't smell nothing." The scruffy man takes out a jumbled up wad of cash and thrusts it at Jay.

"Goddamnit," Jay says, unfolding the cash. "I told you not to wad it up like this. I have to check that your druggie ass knows how to count."

Jay flips through the bills as the scruffy man shuffles back and forth on his feet.

"You seen that shit on the news, man?"

"Stop talking while I count," Jay says, starting over.

"You believe it? I mean, shit just disappearing into thin air like that?" he snaps.

Jay sighs and quickly finishes the count. "Nah, but I'm sure you do." He reaches into his pocket and hands over a baggie of heroin.

"Yeah, fuck yeah I do," the scruffy man says, making the heroin disappear into his person somewhere. "The only thing that makes sense, right?"

"That's why you're on that junk and I'm not," Jay says, putting the money away. "Next time, no wadding up the cash."

"Yeah, well, fuck you, man. Shit freaks me out. Hope I don't vanish."

Jay turns to climb up the rocks. "You keep doing that shit, you will."

The scruffy man disappears behind the supports and into the woods. Jay scrambles up the rocks and brushes himself off. He sees the jogging couple again and they wave at each other, jovial citizens of Atlanta out enjoying nature.

## Chapter 3

The cancer ward of Grady Memorial Hospital is way up on the sixth floor. Serena Binn, a resident of the cancer ward, asked one of the nurses why it was up so high and she told Serena it was for "air clarity." Serena is pretty sure she just didn't know the answer, and she wishes she had just said she wasn't sure.

On the other hand, the high floor means Serena gets a great view of Atlanta while she stares out the window. There isn't too much to do here and the nurses fuss like crazy if you try to walk around too much. So, Serena has become adept at human-ant-watching. She's concocted so many different stories for the usual characters that she's had to reboot and start over.

One man, for example, always waved his hand over a pole going into a nearby building. For weeks Serena watched and waited for him to do it and silently cheered whenever he performed his little ritual. He did it morning, after lunch, and after his afternoon cigarette break.

Then, one day, he stopped. Just like that, no more pole dance. Did he get in trouble for it? Did someone yell at him or make fun of him? Did he have a bad experience with the pole or maybe another pole and vow to never be hurt like that again? So many potential answers. Serena preferred the last option as it provided the most backstory, which gave her something to do.

Today Serena sees three friends crossing the street, three vibrant young women enjoying walking in the open air, their long blonde hair flowing in the morning wind, not realizing how lucky they all are. Serena absentmindedly rubs her bald head and can't help but feel a sharp twinge of jealousy. It's brief, though, as she quickly redirects to coming up with a story for the young women.

"Come on, Marilyn," she hears Nurse Lisa say outside, "you can't be serious."

"Just because it was in the _Enquirer_ doesn't mean it's not true!" she hears Nurse Marilyn respond. "I saw it on the local news last night!"

"Oh, well, that's different," Nurse Lisa says, even closer to Serena's room. "By the way, I have a bridge I want to sell you."

"You stop that," Nurse Marilyn says. Serena hears her sharp tone and imagines they have been going on about this for a while. "You stop that right now. I'm not an idiot."

Serena turns to spy on them. Nurse Marilyn is young and tall and always had a quick smile for Serena when she visited. Nurse Lisa is about half of Marilyn's height and not what you would call someone who suffered nonsense. She'd been a nurse too long to put up with foolishness, she would say. She'd seen it all.

"I didn't say you were an idiot," Nurse Lisa says, her voice softening. "I just think people are ... let's say quick to fall into traps and believe whatever they want. How about that?"

"It doesn't sound that much better."

They lean against the nearby nurses station, rocking their feet back and forth to ease some of the day out of their poor soles. Serena turns back to the cityscape but keeps her ears open.

"Have you seen it at all?" Nurse Lisa says.

"I thought you didn't believe any of it."

"I don't. Just wondering."

Nurse Marilyn laughs. "Well, you know, Bob and I were talking about it last night, and he seems to think the stop light at 45th and Penn is gone. Like, I remember stopping there, but now it's a stop sign, not a stop light. Isn't that weird?"

"Not really," Nurse Lisa says. "There's never been a light there."

"Are you sure? That's what my mom said, too."

"Yes, I'm sure, Marilyn. My mother lived there for nine years. I stopped at that stop sign countless times. I remember there was a sticker with a big frowny face or something and it said 'OBEY' on it."

"Yeah, that's still there!"

Serena can't help but smile at the exchange. To her, it's like listening to two people argue over the sweetness of ice cream as it's melting on the table. _Just eat it already_ , she thinks.

"Just take this with a grain of salt. You're young, but there was this big scare in the 1980s where parents all over the country thought Satanic cults were taking their children and sacrificing them in the woods. It was ridiculous and absolute nonsense. Just because something is on the news doesn't mean it's real."

"Doesn't mean it's not real, either."

Nurse Lisa huffs. "Time for rounds."

Serena hears Nurse Lisa walk down the hall, then hears Nurse Marilyn murmur to herself. Serena tries to chuckle quietly but fails.

"Were you listening to us?" Nurse Marilyn says as she walks in.

"I couldn't help but overhear," Serena says, still looking out the window.

"How are the stories today?"

"Three best friends just crossed the street on the way to start a new job together," Serena says, closing her eyes to remember the scene and their long, flowing blonde hair. "They grew up together and refused to get jobs until they could all work in the same place. Finally they found a book binding business that all hired them on the spot. Today was their first day."

"I don't know if I could work with my best friend," Nurse Marilyn says, checking Serena's readings. "She's way too obnoxious."

"Is she really your best friend, then?"

"Oh yeah. It's just sometimes I can't stand her. You know how it is."

Serena doesn't answer. Nurse Marilyn pats the bed so Serena will lie down—time for a blood pressure check.

The machine starts and Nurse Marilyn taps her foot.

"So ... what do you think? About ..." She nods towards the hallway where she had her conversation with Nurse Lisa. "Do you believe in it?"

"No need to believe, my dear Marilyn," Serena says, lying back as the blood pressure machine beeps away. "I can see it."

Nurse Marilyn's eyes widen and then narrow. "You're messing with me."

Serena turns to look at her. "Read my face. No jokes here."

"Come on. Really?"

"How quickly the tables turn. Now you're the skeptical one."

Nurse Marilyn grins and goes silent. Serena watches her face as she tries to ignore what Serena just told her. She imagines a million feelings and situations shooting through poor Marilyn's brain.

"Everything looks good, hon," Nurse Marilyn says. "How about you get some rest, ok?"

She quickly leaves. Serena isn't entirely surprised. Marilyn is just like most of the people in her life when confronted with the news Serena was going to die from her bone cancer. Hypotheticals are fine, but words are fleeting, and when reality hits most don't stick around.

As she falls asleep she wonders how the three best friends are getting along at their new job at the book binding shop.

## Chapter 4

Gerald flashes his award-winning smile at Ethel as she walks back in wearing a colorful floral dress. Anne gives Gerald a thumbs up, signifying Ethel is now camera-ready. Gerald nods.

"Looking good, Miss Murmen," Gerald says. "We're all ready when you are."

"I believe I am. Do you know who gave me this dress?" Ethel says. "It was ... now that I said it I can't quite remember. Did I offer you tea?"

"Yes, ma'am, you did, and it was delicious," Manny says, raising his cup in thanks.

"Oh good. Can't go without tea. Tea tea tea." She waddles over to the chair that's been set up for the shoot. "Is this where I do the interview?"

"Sure is. Have a seat."

Ethel plops down in the chair and Manny cuts on the lights. Ethel throws her hands up in defense. "Oh! So bright! Is that necessary?"

"Yes, ma'am, sorry," Manny says. "We want you to look your best."

"Now, Ethel," Gerald says, his voice silky smooth, "will you be able to describe what you claim to see?"

Ethel sits up straight. "Oh! Is this the interview?"

"No, I just ..."

"Would it be easier if I could just show you?"

The news crew look at each other. "You can show us?" Gerald says.

"Sure!" Ethel hops out of the chair and walks over to the window. Gerald motions to Manny to grab the camera. Manny gestures to the setup but Gerald waves him over. Manny groans and grabs the camera to shoot Ethel at the window.

Ethel points outside. "You see that park down there?"

"The little triangle?" Gerald says. It's the same park he noticed earlier. Right now, a small child plays in the middle while her mom lies in the grass.

"See that tree right there near the street?" The tree in question is a bright green ficus. There's a short black fence around the base of it. "That tree used to have some little friends. Two, in fact, two happy little friends. Then, one day, they were gone. I mean, gone, like they were never there. Nobody noticed them, either."

"How do you know nobody has noticed, Miss Murmen?" Gerald says, his voice in full newscaster mode.

"I see so many people go there every day," she says. "Not a lot to do in my little home here, you see. But I watch people. And little kids go to that park and run around. When the trees disappeared, they ran right through the spots like it was nothing."

Anne watches the interview from the kitchen area, one eyebrow raised. She hates to agree with Gerald, but this was ridiculous. Ethel seemed to believe what she was saying, and it's weird other people have said the same thing was happening to them, but it just seems like nonsense.

"Let's make sure to get some B-roll of the park," Anne says.

Gerald waves absent-mindedly at her. "Why do you think you're the only one to notice this, Miss Murmen? Why has nobody else noticed this?"

"Oh, that's a good question," Ethel says. She walks back over to sit in the chair, her back popping as she does so. "Oof! That smarts. I don't have an answer for your question, Mister Trimmings. I suppose an old fogey like me would be able to notice little changes like that. Everybody is so busy these days."

"Is there anything else you've seen? Or, not seen, as it were?"

"Just little things here and there. Ironically, I can't remember what they are. Is that ironic? I think it is."

Anne shakes her head and twirls her finger at Manny. He gives a thumbs up and taps Gerald on the shoulder.

"Well, this has been enlightening, Miss Murmen. Thank you for your time."

"Wow, is that it? That was so fast!"

Manny shuts the lights and the camera off. Gerald shakes Ethel's hand as she starts to get out of her chair.

"You don't have to get up, we can get out of your hair now," Gerald says.

"No, no, you're my guests," Ethel says. "And in this house we walk people to the door. Also ..." Ethel gets quiet and won't look Gerald in the eye.

"What do you need?" Anne says.

"I'd like to give Gerald a hug."

Gerald laughs, a big booming guffaw. "Of course! Anything for a fan!"

Ethel blushes as Gerald gently brings her in for a hug. He can feel her huge glasses smashed up against his stomach. _She is so freaking short_ , he thinks.

"Wait until I tell Ruthy about this!" Ethel says in a muffled voice due to Gerald's shirt being in her face. "She'll never believe me."

The hug breaks and Ethel's face is redder than before. Manny finishes putting his equipment away.

"I'm all ready," Manny says. "Let's go shoot some of that park."

"Thanks again for your time, Miss Murmen," Anne says.

"You're quite welcome!" Ethel says, opening the door for them. "Oh, would you like any tea for the road?"

The trio reaches the little triangle park Ethel talked about in her segment. Right away Manny can tell something is off, but he can't quite tell what. He breaks out the camera for some B-roll.

"Try and get a nice sweeping shot here," Anne says. "Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Oh, shouldn't it?" Manny says, turning the camera on.

"I just mean it's small, smart-ass," Anne says, laughing.

"There's no way this is a park," Gerald says, walking up with a fresh new cup of coffee in hand. "It's barely enough to stand in. Can you imagine bringing a frisbee here? How disappointing."

"Better than nothing, I guess," Manny says. He sweeps the camera slowly from side to side to get a nice shot, hoping the editors at the station will be able to splice it in during Ethel's short speech. This was really a silly story, but it beats covering another school shooting.

Through the camera, Manny notices something. "Hey, what's that?" He points near the end of the park next to the street.

Anne tries to follow where he's pointing. "What? I don't see anything."

Gerald walks over to the spot in question. He bends down and picks up a segment of fence which is remarkably similar to the fence around the ficus tree. He holds it up for the shot and compares it to the other fence.

"It was just sitting there by itself," Gerald says. "That's weird, right?"

"I mean, it's not exactly blockbuster evidence, but it'll do," Anne says. "Let's shoot it."

"Manny, weren't you recording? I already pulled it out of the ground!"

Anne points to his hand—he's still holding his coffee cup. Not exactly professional.

"Dammit! Let's go again!"

## Chapter 5

Jay plops down on his dirty couch. Bodies of his incapacitated friends litter the ground still. Dust, exploded from the couch, settles on their prone forms. Jay snorts.

Ryu Tan, Jay's best friend since middle school, stumbles into the room, eyes half-glazed. The early afternoon light makes him squint as he tries to find a spot on the couch. He wriggles his skinny behind between two people from the party last night. Neither Jay or Ryu know most of these people or how they got there, but that's the way it went around here.

Ryu nods at Jay. Jay nods back. Ryu smiles but that hurts his head. He grimaces.

"Drop-off ok?" Ryu says through gritted teeth.

"Another druggie satisfied," Jay says. At the sound of their voices, several people stir.

"Nice," Ryu says. "Great to hear. How much you get?"

"Just a fifty." Jay tosses the bundle of money over to Ryu.

"Shit," Ryu says, picking the bundle up. "What's the deal lately?"

"You got me. The harder times are, you figure the easier it is to push. But I can't give this shit away."

A young punk on the ground coughs and clears his throat, looking at Jay in disapproval. Jay stares him down and the young punk pretends to go back to sleep.

"People are just wising up to your tricks, man," Ryu says, tossing the money back to Jay. You're whiter than the garbage you sell. You look like you just stepped out of a NASCAR rally or a goddamn Narcs 'R Us convention. I bet if you brought them back to your wonderful palace they'd know you're the real deal." Ryu sweeps his hand like he's a model on _The Price is Right_.

Edith, a portly woman wearing several layers of denim jackets, yawns and sits up. She taps her nose. "It's all going up here, anyway."

"Yeah, you and all these other freeloaders," Jay says, nodding towards the other partygoers. "Just once I'd like someone else to pick up the tab."

As he says this, Jay pulls out a large, ornate box from behind the couch. He unlocks it with a tiny key from his pocket. Inside is a veritable winter wonderland of cocaine. By the looks of if, he's supplied enough to handle enough business selling crack or whatever else he wants for a long time coming.

Ryu smacks his lips. "Ah. The ol' box-o-drugs rears its beautiful head so early this morning."

Jay lines up a bump on a small mirror for Ryu.

"Naw," Edith says, standing up to join the party, "I meant up your own nose. I mean, look at this shit. You could probably invent some new drug and be famous."

Ryu takes the mirror. "Yeah, you could be the Albert Einstein of cocaine."

"He didn't invent ... I think you mean Thomas Edison, man," Edith says.

"He didn't invent shit either," Jay says, lining up another bump for Edith on another mirror. "He was a fucking thief. Anyway, I don't give a shit about any of that. The faster I go, the quicker I spin off this damn planet. I'm just here for the ride. Go, go, go."

"Yeah!" Edith says a little too loudly. Hungover partygoers groan at the noise. "We're all going to vanish anyway, right? Right into the netherworld with us!"

"Man, don't joke on that, ok?" Ryu says, his hands trembling. "That shit has me all sorts of fucked up."

"Will you chattering Tinas just fucking GO?" Jay says. He lines up a bump for himself and all three snort them at the same time.

One of the first things Jay bought after he first started selling drugs was his jet-black Range Rover. It's been his pride and joy ever since he first sat in it at the dealership. It took him only thirty minutes of deliberation to decide to get it, and half of that was trying to decide whether to get the jet-black model or the neon-purple one.

While his apartment is completely filthy and disgusting, he keeps the Ranger Rover immaculate and pristine. Jay feels like it's his true home, and the apartment is just a place to sleep the early morning away. Plus, he disagrees completely with Ryu—it's all about presentation, and when he makes drops in the Range Rover he feels like a real entrepreneur. He's making himself look like the success he presents.

It also does well in attracting the attention of new friends. As they roll around town he gets looks from people walking down the sidewalk, from men and women alike. Some in admiration, some in jealousy, but looks are looks, he figures.

Ryu eats it up even more than Jay does, throwing out fake gang signs and waving to passersby. Edith tries to wrangle him in but she's always unsuccessful.

A misty rain falls as Jay pulls the Range Rover around to the back of Pas de Vêtements, Atlanta's newest strip club, modeled after a French brothel. The front lot is full, but Jay pulled a few strings a few weeks ago and has back lot access.

"Still feels like a dream," Ryu says as they hop out of the car. Around them are nothing but a handful of cars, dumpsters, and various debris, including a G-string draped over a nearby stairwell pole.

"Some dream," Edith says.

"Well, this is just the entrance to the dream, like the pre-dream," Ryu says, straightening his shirt.

"Don't blow your load on the pre-dream, then," Edith says. "I'm sure that's a problem you've run into before."

"Why the raw hatred? Is it because I'm beautiful? Jealousy isn't a positive trait, Edith," Ryu says, walking up to the door. "What's the knock again?"

Jay shoulders open the door. A large bouncer jumps in surprise, ready to go to town on this intruder, but sees it's Jay. "You scared the fuck outta me, man."

They fist bump. "You good?"

The bouncer nods. "I like to take it slow."

Jay smiles. "Right."

Ryu tries to fist-bump the bouncer, but he gets ignored. He fist-bumps himself instead.

"I have a feeling that will be a reoccurring theme for you," Edith says.

"Too much hate in this world," Ryu says.

Later that evening, the misty rain has turned into a full-on downpour, one of the thousands of sudden, unexpected showers one can expect in the South during the late summer. It's especially splashy on the roof of the building that houses Pas de Vêtements.

Ryu looks over the edge of the roof, gulping when he sees just how far up they are. Edith pulls him away and shoves him towards one of the dancers Jay has coerced into coming up and partying in the rain. The dancer looks dubious at first but relents to dancing with Ryu, contorting as best as she can as they get drenched.

Jay resigns himself near the stairwell entrance, content to watch everyone else have fun. Deep down he knows everyone is here because of the substances he carries around. Well, except for Ryu, and maybe Edith. But the way the lights of the city bounce off the exploding raindrops, like a shower of tiny neon lasers, makes him forget. He finds a cover and does another bump.

One of the dancers sees him and walks over. _Sandy_? he thinks. _Serenity?_

"Hey, stranger," the dancer says. "Got any for me?" She makes a fake-pouty face that irritates Jay instantly.

Instead of shoving her away, he offers some up. "Sure. Enjoy."

"You're so generous. You act like this stuff is everybody's, not just yours." She snorts up the coke but some of it catches on her face. A glob washes away in the rain. Jay watches it float away.

"Isn't it?" he says. "Stay still." He licks the cocaine off the top of her lip. "I mean, it all goes away in the end, right?"

"I suppose so," she says, leaning in to kiss him.

He stops her. "Go have fun."

Confused, she walks back over to the group.

Edith strolls over to Jay. "Enjoying yourself, boss?" she says.

"Gotta go somewhere else. Too boring."

"Strippers dancing on a sky-high building in the middle of Atlanta during a summer shower isn't enough for you?"

"It's not the what, it's the fact we've been here long enough." Jay's foot taps. "Gotta go."

"Can we at least take some of them with us?" Edith says. "I have a feeling Ryu will cry if we don't."

"Whatever. Just grab him and let's get out of here."

Edith turns to go and grab Ryu. Jay turns his face up to the sky to let the downpour wash over his face. He spins in circles as lightning crashes nearby.

## Chapter 6

A stray sunbeam glances across Serena's face, waking her up from her slumber. Once she was awake she was fine, but coming out of sleep was tough these days, not to mention disorienting. Her dreams were vivid enough to confuse her when she was back to reality.

She looks down and sees she's in a different gown, the one with the little purple tulips on it. She glances to her right and sure enough there's her mother, Hela, sitting there reading a book. One of her trashy romance novels by the looks of the cover—some hunky man with a sword carrying a damsel in distress.

"Mrrgghh," Selena says. Her mouth wouldn't let her talk. She takes a second. "Hello."

"Hello," Hela says. "I was wondering how long you were going to be sleeping today."

"How long have you been here?" Serena tries stretching but she's far too stiff.

"About thirty minutes." Hela puts the book down. "I hope I didn't wake you. Go back to sleep if you want." She walks over to the window. "Here, I'll shut these blinds and you can get some more sleep."

"No, no," Serena says, finally up to stretching. She feels something pop in her ribcage. "I'm up now. Ready to go."

"Just ten more minutes?" Hela fiddles with the blinds. "Here, I'll just shut them real quick."

"Mom." Hela sees Serena's face and stops messing with the blinds.

"Fine," she says. "I suppose I just like watching you sleep." She walks back over to her chair and grabs her book. "It used to be the other way around, me dragging you out of bed, you whining about just ten more minutes here, five more minutes there. The way things change. How about food?"

"I'm ok. What are you reading?"

"Part five of the Sword & Stone series," Hela says, showing Serena the cover. "Goldor the Barbarian lost his bride to The Serpent of The Void and has to go get her back."

"And I'm sure he takes several lovers along the way?"

Hela shoots Serena a look and settles back into the book. "Don't judge me."

"You need a boyfriend." Serena lies back down to do her morning exercises.

"Watch it," Hela says, keeping an eye on Serena as she stretches and contorts herself. "These books can't go get cigarettes for twenty years. And it beats watching the news. I can't go anywhere without seeing this idiotic nonsense about the world vanishing. It's everywhere."

"You mean the disappearances?"

"Yes! It's not bad enough with the horrible economy and all that garbage going on over in the desert, but now this? If nobody can see it, what is the point in telling people about it?"

Serena freezes. She knows she shouldn't engage with Hela about this. She knows a fight is coming.

She can't help herself.

"You don't think people need to know if their life is about to end abruptly?" she says. "Why shouldn't they have a heads up?"

Hela pauses for a second, clearly considering the same thing Serena was. "Because it's nonsense, Serena," she says. "There's no proof or anything, just a bunch of people prattling about nothing."

"There is proof, though," Serena says, swinging her feet around in order to stand up. "People have seen it. I believe them. Why would they lie?"

Hela's face hardens. "Because that's what people do. They lie. It's for attention, that's all. You can't believe everything you hear just because it was on TV. I'm tired of talking about this already." She picks her book back up and hides her face from Serena.

"Well I'm not. Personally, I'd rather know when my life was about to end. I mean that's kind of why I'm—"

"Hush." Not a request.

"Excuse me? You can't just hush me."

"Hush." Also not a request. Hela shakes the book. Serena can't tell if it's voluntary or not.

"That is so juvenile. You do this every time. You do realize where we are, right?"

No answer. Serena stands up and stares at the stupid book hiding her mom's face. She gets a brief flashback of almost this exact same scenario when Serena was late coming home from a date when she was fifteen.

"Nothing?" Serena says, crossing her arms. "Just going to cut me off again? Why are you even here?"

Hela slams the book down. "God, Serena, give me a break. I have bills to pay. The dishwasher leaks. There's nothing I can do, and I have other things to worry about, ok? Ok? Is that enough?"

"That's something, at least," Serena says, walking over to the window. "Still doesn't make any sense, but whatever it takes for you to ignore reality."

"You say that as you watch your little stories out the window," Hela says. "You think you're so different." The chair groans as she stands up. "I don't care if you're not hungry, I'm going to get your food."

Hela storms out. Serena doesn't look back as she leaves. Out the window she sees some usuals walking around—the crazy umbrella woman, the young couple who always go for coffee every three hours, and the dog walker who refuses to clean up poop.

Her eyes glaze over as her thoughts turn to Hela. Serena appreciates the company as nobody else from her family visits her, nor do any of her "friends," but sometimes it makes treatment that much harder. Getting into fights isn't part of the wellness regime her doctor prescribed for her.

"Is the fighting over?" Serena hears a tiny voice say from the hallway. She turns and sees half of a little bald girl, clad in a pink robe, peeking at her from behind the doorframe. The girl blinks in anticipation of more yelling.

"Oh, hey there," Serena says. "Sorry, did we frighten you?"

"Was that your mom?" the little girl says, not answering the question. She comes out from behind the doorframe. Serena now sees the other half of her face is stricken with palsy.

"Yeah, sure was." Serena walks over to the bed and sits down. "Come on in."

"My mom and I yell at each other sometimes. Well, we used to." The little girl gimpily walks in and sits down in the chair formerly occupied by Hela. "I guess that's normal."

"Used to? You don't fight anymore?"

"My name's Ginger," the girl says, again avoiding the question. "What's yours?"

"I'm Serena. Nice to meet you." She offers out her hand and Ginger gingerly shakes it. "Ginger is a pretty name."

"I like yours better." A tiny speck of drool comes out of Ginger's mouth and she wipes it away without a thought. "It sounds like you're from Spain."

Serena laughs. "Oh yeah? Well, I think your name makes you sound like a movie star!"

Ginger's face lights up. "My dad says that too! He says I can be one when I grow up. He told me I'd be the prettiest movie star ever."

"I have to agree with your dad." Serena reaches over and rubs Ginger's bald head. No fuzz at all, completely hair free. "I also see you're part of the Bald Brigade like me."

"The Bald Brigade? What is that?"

Serena sees the curiosity take over Ginger's adorable little face. She leans in conspiratorially. "Don't tell anybody," she says, looking around to make sure nobody is around to hear. Ginger does the same thing and Serena can't help but smile. "It's what I call people like you and me who don't need their hair anymore. We let it go because it was weighing our heads down. I thought it was just me but here you go walking into my room. Do you want in?"

"Do I have to do anything to join? I don't have any money."

"Me neither. It's totally free. But we have to come up with a handshake. Maybe that's your payment, coming up with the handshake."

"Ok! Maybe my dad can help!"

"Sure! But don't tell him what it's for because it's a secret club."

"Oh yeah," Ginger says, whispering and putting her finger to her lips. "I already forgot. I'm not good at keeping secrets but I'll try."

"That's all we can ask here at the Bald Brigade," Serena says. Hela walks in carrying a pale pink food tray. "Uh oh, my take-out has arrived."

"And who is this sitting in my seat," Hela says. "I was only gone five minutes and you've already replaced me?"

"This is Ginger, Mom," Serena says. "Be respectful, she's a movie star."

"Movie star, huh?" Hela says as she wheels Serena's table over to her. "What movies have I seen you in?"

"Nothing yet, but I will be some day!" Ginger says, bouncing in the seat.

"Great. Well, when you get an agent let me know, ok?" Hela arranges everything for Serena, setting out her utensils and napkin.

"Don't be rude," Serena says. "Where's your room?" she asks Ginger.

Ginger hops off the chair and points down the hall. "Down that way next to the boy with all the teddy bears. He lets me borrow them sometimes."

"He sounds like a great guy," Serena says, waving to Ginger. "You can come visit me any time you want, ok?"

"Ok! And I promise not to tell about the ..." she shoots a look at Hela and zips her lip. "The ... you know." She winks at Serena and heads towards her room.

"What was that about?" Hela says, uncovering the food she gathered.

"Secret club. I can't tell you. What do we have today?"

"Peas and some sort of taco thing? I can't really tell. How does that work? Gross."

"Ginger said my name made me sound like I'm from Spain." She tucks her napkin into the top of her hospital gown. "I guess this is appropriate."

"I don't think they have tacos in Spain, dear," Hela says, sitting back down into her chair. "Did you tell Ginger you were named after a Latin pop star? No, you probably didn't, because that was your father's idea."

"It didn't come up."

"Hmph. Can't imagine it would. Eat your peas and tacos before they get cold."

Serena pokes at the mess with her fork. "Great. Yeehaw and olé."

## Chapter 7

Reed Hastings  has been the station manager at WATL for decades and his office reflects that. When a new hire walks in they can almost smell the history in front of them. There's a definite chance this office had shag carpeting and Reed had to be persuaded to let it go and replace it, although Reed would deny it.

Reed himself is the embodiment of shag carpeting. If he could bring back the 70s he would do so in a heartbeat, if only for the aesthetic. His few remaining hairs on the top of his head are the ghost of the long, flowing mane he was known for in the past. In his mind nothing has changed there, either, and occasionally he'll still make the motion of moving long hair off his shoulders.

Gerald is long past willing to put up with Reed's bravado and respect of days gone by. He's also one of the few people who can get away with entering without knocking, as he does this afternoon.

"We did your damn goat piece," Gerald says as he walks in. "I really hope you have something more substantial for me up next. That was just a mountain of garbage."

"Well, good morning to you, too, Gerald," Reed says. "Glad to see you in your usual good mood!"

"Don't pretend to be interested in my mood," Gerald says, crossing his arms. "I don't appreciate being sent on wild goose chases. Invisible gooses, no less."

"Geese," Reed says, opening his desk drawer. He keeps cigars around knowing he can't smoke them in the office anymore due to the "fussy baby nanny state bureaucrats," but he enjoys chomping on them. After all these years they still help him think. And relax. He calls them, appropriately enough, chompin' cigars.

Gerald sighs dramatically. "Oh, thank you, that is so helpful."

"The fact of the matter, Gerald, is that we may have been too late on that story of yours."

"That was not my story—"

"This disappearing shit is all over the place," Reed says, chomping on his cigar. "Every station is jumping on this. Must be something to it. Glad I sent you out to that Murmen character. Hope you got some good stuff, Gerald. Looks to be the story of the century. Or at least this week. Ha!" The cigar flies out of his mouth and onto his desk. He sweeps it off.

Gerald looks sheepish. "Well, I'm sure we ... got some good footage. You know how these things go ..." As he talks, his face turns pale.

"What does that mean? What did you get? Please don't tell me you didn't put your heart into this. You know I can't stand that." Reed gestures behind him, and sure enough there's a sign on the far wall: "Put Your Heart Into Every Story!"

Gerald steels himself. "I would never do less than 100%, Reed, and I think you know that!"

Reed gets ready for a fight, but before it can happen an intern bursts into the room. "Boss, you should see this. WALB."

Reed nods and flips on one of the televisions in his office. Unlike the rest of the place, it's new and updated, state of the art. He turns to WALB and sees Johnny Reynolds, former WATL reporter and giant cockbag, reporting out in the street.

"... that this is no Bigfoot hoax or anything similar, but the real deal, she says."

"Fucking Johnny," Reed grumbles, grabbing another cigar.

The segment switches to a shot of a sweet old lady, all bundled up in her light pink housecoat. She might as well be a doppelganger of Ethel Murmen.

"I always went for a drive every Sunday afternoon after church," the sweet old lady says, visibly shaking. "But this week my car is just flat gone, I tell you. Gone! And what's worse, there isn't any record of me ever owning one!"

"Do you think someone may have just stolen your car and this is a big coincidence? Maybe someone stole your car title and immediately changed the name?" Johnny says off-screen.

The sweet old lady looks generally hurt. "Of course not," she says. "Who would do such a thing? Would you do that to someone?"

"Of course not, ma'am," Johnny says.

"Shit!" Reed says, chomping like mad on his cigar. "A sweet old lady and a disappearing car. Gerald, I hope to God Almighty you got something that can beat that." He turns and stares at Gerald.

"Of course, I ..." Gerald says, feigning confidence. But he can't maintain it. He clears his throat.

Reed's face drops.

The editing room is full of monitors, each with images flashing across them at a rapid pace as editors get the stories ready for the day's broadcast. Gerald would never tell them this, but he's always been impressed how the editors can keep track of all the movement and intensity in the room every single day.

Reed and Gerald stand in front of one of the biggest monitors. Gerald looks nervous, Reed looks unhappy, and the two editors assisting them look tired and amused.

On the screen, Ethel is telling Gerald all about the mystery of the vanishing tree. The shot looks great as Manny did an amazing job with the quick turnaround, but now out of the heat of the moment it just looks like an old woman rambling about something she saw down the street.

At one point Gerald looks at the camera and looks like he's about to quit journalism altogether. Manny must have laughed because the camera shakes briefly before righting itself.

Reed rubs his neck. The editors look at each other and whisper something and then laugh. Gerald doesn't hear what they say.

"That tree used to have some little friends," Ethel says. "Two, in fact, two happy little friends. Then, one day, they were gone. I mean gone, like they were never there. Nobody noticed them, either."

Reed perks up. "That's moderately interesting I guess. Please tell me you went down and got some B-roll."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Gerald says. "Amateur hour Ron?"

"So, is that a yes?" Reed says.

"Yes!"

Reed taps one of the editors, a squirrely looking woman, on the shoulder. "Hey, quit your giggling and gossiping and show us the B-roll."

"You got it, boss," she says. The images flash until they show Gerald holding up a piece of the fence in the little park.

"And here we have the mysterious fence piece," Gerald says on screen. "If there were trees here, where did they go? Why was the fence still in the ground? We reached out to Atlanta's Parks and Recreation Department and they had no comment."

"And by 'no comment' I mean they laughed and hung up on me," non-TV Gerald says.

"Of course they did," Reed says. "But at least you tried." He claps Gerald on the shoulder. "This is something to work with, at least, buddy boy. I mean, it's not a car vanishing, but it's something, and something is all we can ask for in this crazy world, right?"

Gerald nods. He's used to these platitudes from Reed. He can never tell if he's serious, being sarcastic, or just rambling to hear himself talk. Probably a mix of everything, but at least he doesn't have to worry anymore.

"Call up Parks and Recreation again and see if they'll consent this time," Reed says. "Also, remember your kittens piece tonight."

"Not again!" Gerald says, dramatically throwing his hands in the air. "I hate those things!"

"Who hates kittens?" the squirrely editor says. The other one snorts.

"Think you can work with this, you two?" Reed says to the editors.

The squirrely one gives a thumbs up. "It's golden."

Gerald scowls as Reed pats him on the shoulder again and leaves the room. "Great work everybody," he says as he closes the door behind him.

Gerald looks at his visage on the big screen, standing there like an idiot holding a piece of metal fence. The editors stand up and stretch. After glancing back at the scowling Gerald, the squirrely one nods towards the door.

They whisper but Gerald can still hear them.

"Golden?" the snorting editor says.

"Golden shower, maybe," the squirrely one says.

"Gross."

The door closes. The other editors in the room ignore Gerald.

In the back of the station there's an empty hallway that leads to some closed-off offices. Only a handful of people go back here anymore as the offices are locked up tight. Some speculate there are dead bodies in there but in reality there was a roof leak and the station hasn't had the money to fix it. Nobody used those rooms anyway so now it's a hallway to nowhere.

A few employees use the hallway as a safe space to get away from the hustle and bustle, including Manny and Anne. Anne leans against the wall while Manny bounces a rubber ball against one of the locked doors. The paint is worn off from him doing this so much over the past few months.

"It's so strange," Anne says. "I know babies are supposed to be curious, but he just spends all day grasping around in the air. It's like every piece of dust is a wonder."

"Maybe it is," Manny says. "It must be nice to feel like everything is amazing. All that he sees is his first time encountering it."

"They say that's why babies cry so hard at random things," Anne says as she yawns. "To us it seems silly they're bawling about their toy being taken away, but to them it's literally the worst thing that's ever happened to them. No sense of scale to work with."

"Kind of sounds like Gerald," Manny says. Anne laughs and Manny watches her laugh. Her entire face lights up whenever she does, which isn't often.

"True." She shakes her head. "Don't you think that would be a burden, though? Constantly being in wonder all the time? Seems like it would get old."

"Well, at one point you were a baby."

"So were you!"

"No, I mean it went away, so I guess it does get old," Manny says, putting his ball away. "So, you have your answer."

Footsteps. Manny and Anne freeze, trying not to laugh as they look at each other in panic.

"Manny!" It's Gerald. Manny's face falls. Anne snickers. "Manuel, I need you at once. Are you back here again?"

Manny looks around, wishing he could just jump through the wall. He pretends to jiggle the door handle of one of the locked offices and Anne laughs out loud.

"Aha! I knew it." The footsteps get closer and he rounds the corner.

"We're just hanging out and enjoying a break, Jerry," Manny says.

"We're on the damn kitten shit tonight."

"We?" Manny says, confused. "Why do I have to do it? Pretty sure you're the main ingredient."

"And the kitties," Anne says, trying not to grin. "Don't forget the kitties. They are so cute, Gerald."

"Yes. Adorable. I need you to shoot me—"

Anne gasps. "You hate them that much?"

Gerald ignores her. "—because you're the only cameraman who can make me shine my brightest."

"Uh, excuse me," Manny says, wagging his finger at him, "I prefer the term cinematographer."

"Oh my God. I will call you Jumpin' Jesus Jones the Jolly Jack-Off if you want, just shoot this goddamn pussy piece!"

Anne bursts into laughter. Manny watches her again.

"Fine, fine," Manny says. "Just cut out the alliteration. I'll do it because you flatter me so much."

Gerald stomps away back down the hallway, his fancy loafers slapping on the old carpet.

"He's like a tornado," Anne says, almost in admiration.

Manny laughs. "Gerald Trimmings, force of nature and kitten wrangler."

## Chapter 8

Jay can feel his eyelids crack and peel away from each other as he struggles to open them this morning. Last night was one for the ages but he's feeling it now. He somehow hurt his back, although that may be from sleeping on the couch again. _That kind of shit is for kids_ , he thinks. _Not an old fart._

He sits up and looks around at the chaos. Ryu sleeps naked on the floor next to some chick—one of the dancers from last night? Jay can't quite remember, but her hair looks familiar. Over in the corner Edith slumps against the wall, her arm draped around one of Jay's giant speakers like they just got through telling war stories.

Jay stands up and walks to the kitchen, careful not to wake anyone up. He sees they made coffee at some point last night. Rather than make new coffee and risk the smell rousing everyone, he drinks some of the sludgy mess cold, dropping some ice cubes in.

"Real fancy shit," he says to himself, rubbing his head and enjoying the awful concoction. He peers out of the blinds but the bright sun blinds him so he closes them. Resigning himself to the kitchen table, he stares at the stove clock, willing the afternoon to burn away.

His leg starts twitching and he shakes it, bouncing his knee up and down in rhythm to some song he can't place that's stuck in his head. The coffee helps to shave the crust out of his eyes and by the time the first cup is finished he's fully awake. It doesn't take much, much to his chagrin.

He pours another cup of cold sludge, foregoing the fancy ice this time. His leg bounces more frantically this time as he tries to relax and enjoy it. Taking a deep breath, he leans back and stretches, pretending he's calm and taking it easy.

He can't take it anymore. He walks over to Ryu and lightly kicks him with his foot.

"Hey. Get up."

Ryu's eyes immediately pop open. "Cops?"

Jay shakes his head. "Gotta get out of here."

"It's daytime."

"I'm aware of that."

"You got a sale?"

"No. Come on."

Ryu carefully pulls his arm from under last night's companion. He leans against the couch and tries to shake out the cobwebs.

"You know they won't let you see her," he says.

"The fuck they won't."

"Can you at least take a shower this time, so you smell good when you get kicked out?"

"Are you going with me or not?"

Ryu sniffs. The girl on the floor coughs and rolls over.

"Ok," Ryu says. "But I get to drive."

"No," Jay says, grabbing his keys.

"Ok, then I get to ride in the passenger seat, and that's final."

They creep out of Jay's apartment, leaving the others to sleep the day away.

Ryu unwraps a candy bar as Jay drives through the city. Jay looks over at the crinkling of the paper.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Jay says.

Ryu shrugs. "It was sitting in this little cubbie over here."

"Why was ... never mind," Jay says.

Ryu munches away. "I don't ask questions. I just accept gifts from the universe."

"Some gift."

They ride in silence for a while. Ryu flips on the radio but Jay flips it back off. He always rides in silence unless he's loaded.

"I don't know why you're bothering anyway," Ryu says, clearly sulking.

"With what, exactly?" Jay says, hanging a sharp right.

Ryu's stomach turns. "Ugh. Coming out here. If I'm honest, it gives me the creeps."

"Don't be a pussy."

"I'm serious," Ryu says, taking another bite of candy bar. "All these people waiting around to push off. Just lying in bed or wandering around muttering to themselves. There was that one lady who kept talking to her husband and kid like they were in the fucking room." He shudders violently. "Give me a break."

Jay swings left. He hears Ryu groan next to him. On a pole on the corner next to a mailbox he sees crude graffiti: WE'RE FUCKED.

"Hmm," he says.

"What?"

"What if they are there?"

"Huh? Who?"

"The people she was talking to," Jay says. "The husband and kid. What if they were there? We just didn't know about it. Not on the same wavelength."

"So, you believe in ghosts now? I'm really glad you're driving. This was a good idea to come with you today."

"Not ghosts," Jay says as he swings another hard right. "Say ... Mister Jones in Room 303 used to be a banker, years and years ago. In his so-called 'delirium' he talks to an old employee and tells him to close an account due to negligence or missed payments or whatever. Mister Jones' son sees him writhing on the bed, shaking and sweating, dying in front of his eyes."

"I told you this shit freaked me out, right? You heard that part?"

"But Mister Jones, see, he's back in 1957, right back there in his old bank, yelling at some fresh-faced doughboy to cut off a bum's swell payday. Or whatever they said back then. The son only gets to see one side of the conversation. Just like us."

Ryu finishes off the candy bar and stuffs the wrapper in his pocket. He shakes his head as he chews. He puts his hands over his ears but decides against that and looks out the window, trying to ignore Jay.

"Do they know where they are?" Jay says, really getting into this train of thought. "Do they go back in time? Can they even help what they're doing, or is it all on purpose? Are those people there, staring at them? If we took a photograph of their memory, let's say, would we see those people staring back at us as well?"

He looks over at Ryu who continues staring out the window.

"Stop looking at me," Ryu says. "I'm going to throw up."

Jay snickers as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. After he parks, he turns to Ryu expectedly. Ryu shakes his head.

"Thanks for the support," Jay says as he gets out.

"Leave the keys." Ryu holds his hand out.

Jay tosses the keys a little too hard and slams the door. Ryu snatches the keys before they smash into the window. As Jay storms off to the hospital, Ryu turns on the radio and takes a deep breath, letting the music take him away from the situation.

Jay's elevator ride up to the sixth floor is accompanied by a muzak version of Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life." Jay can't help but snap along, mainly due to how ridiculous it was. When did Iggy Pop agree to let his music become muzak, when did muzak get put back into elevators, why did they think this was a good song to put into a hospital ... so many questions that will never be answered.

"Of course I've had it in the ear before," he sings to the tinny tunes of the fake version of the song as the elevator stops at the sixth floor. He figures Ryu wanted the keys to listen to music and he briefly wonders what he's listening to. Can't be worse than this. Maybe.

The elevator dings. Jay takes a deep breath and steps out. Nobody in the hall, a good first step.

He turns the corner to head to the nurses station. Next to it he sees the food cart, which means lunch is a little late today. That could work out as he can get away with hanging out here for a short time and get credit for the visit.

The young nurse is there today which is also a good sign as Jay has had success talking his way past her before. If it was the old lady he'd have been fucked. Maybe things were going to work out today after all, a rare treat.

He thought it too soon and cursed it. Just as he was about to try and sneak past the young nurse and enter Serena's room, Hela walks around from behind the food cart, carrying a tray no doubt bound for Serena. She nods and smiles before she sees who it is, and then her face immediately pinches into rage.

"Hell ..." he says.

"What in God's name are you doing here?" Hela says, trying to keep her voice contained. Nurse Marilyn, the young nurse, looks up from her duties in surprise.

"I just want to see her," Jay says, putting his hands up in surrender. "Just for a minute, ok?"

"She doesn't want to see you, is the problem," Hela says. She puts the food tray back and gets in his face. Her nose wrinkles. "Jesus, you smell like you haven't showered in days. Are you carrying any of that shit you push on those kids?"

"Fuck you," Jay says. He turns to walk into the room. Marilyn stands up, expecting a confrontation.

"Excuse me," Nurse Marilyn says. Jay and Hela ignore her.

Jay is always surprised at how frail Serena looks when he sees her. Every time he thinks he's prepared for it but every time it gets through his thick shell to hurt him inside to see her like this. His heart skips but not in a loving way. More in a "the world is shit" kind of way.

She looks over and sees him—well, sees something, anyway. Jay notices her eyes aren't focusing. He tries to smile but his mouth won't work.

Suddenly, pain. Hela has dug her nails deep into Jay's arm and is pulling him out of Serena's room. He looks down in surprise.

"You worthless piece of shit," Hela says. "How I ever let you around my daughter I don't know. If you don't leave I'm going to call security and have them drag your druggie ass out."

"Ok, that's enough," Marilyn says, walking out from the back of the nurses station. "I won't have any of this on this floor."

"I want this scum out of here!" Hela says. She's losing control of the volume of her voice.

"Jay?" Serena's voice makes Jay whip his head around. She's up and walking towards him with a bewildered look on her face.

"Hey, whoa, don't get up on my account—" Jay says.

"How are you here?" Serena says, still walking towards him. Her hospital gown drags on the floor, making her look like a ghost. "You can't be here yet."

"What do you mean?" He pulls his arm away from Hela.

"I have to go to school. So you have to go so I can get ready. You're not here yet, so you have to go."

Jay's face turns bright red. Hela sees his steely gaze turn soft. Nurse Marilyn rushes in to help Serena back to her bed.

"Yeah. She's that bad now, all the time," Hela says. "You being here is obviously making it worse on everyone. You heard her, it's time for you to go."

"Serena, honey, you know you can't be up and wandering around like that," Nurse Marilyn says, tucking Serena back into bed. "Time for you to rest."

"Do you know how he's here?" Serena asks Nurse Marilyn. "I'm supposed to go to school, so how is he here? It's not time yet, is it?"

"Time for you to sleep, honey," Nurse Marilyn says. "We'll worry about that later."

Jay watches this, ignoring Hela tugging on his arm to get him to leave. He notices Serena is still wearing her wedding ring.

"You got your wish, Jay," Hela says. She crosses her arms, struggling to maintain her anger. "You got to see her. Let's not pretend you suddenly give a shit about her."

Jay turns to Hela, eager to start another fight. Seeing Serena's wedding ring again makes him stop. Instead, they stare needles at each other until Nurse Marilyn clears her throat. Jay relents and retreats back down the hall to the elevator.

Hela rushes into the room to be by Serena's side.

The car door slams, jolting Ryu awake as he slept against the passenger door. He turns to see Jay gripping the steering wheel like he hopes to crush it into powder.

"Jay?"

No answer. Jay just stares straight ahead, looking out into the parking lot. Glints of afternoon light slam into his eyeballs but he doesn't blink.

"Jay? You ok, man? Tell me what happened."

Still nothing. Jay doesn't flinch. Ryu twiddles his fingers, hoping Jay didn't have a stroke or something worse. _I suppose we're in the right place anyway_ , he thinks.

"What if we just slammed into that car?"

Panicked, Ryu waves his hands in protest. "Huh? What? What car?"

Jay nods ahead. "That one. Right ahead. With the stupid chrome grill. What if we just slammed into it?"

"Why? What for?"

"So it would hit the next car. And then the next car. Who knows? Just to find out."

Ryu shakes his head. "Let's not and say we did, ok? I don't understand what you're going on about."

Another long silence which gives Ryu plenty of time to worry Jay is going to floor it and ruin the rest of their day, week, month, whatever. Finally, Jay relaxes and pulls out of the parking space like a normal human being.

"I need a drink," Jay says.

"YOU need a fucking drink?" Ryu says, realizing he needs to make better friends.

## Chapter 9

Adorable, cuddly, mewling kittens swarm over Gerald Trimmings' casually splayed body on the floor of the WATL newsroom. Practically everyone else on the planet would be having the time of their lives, barring some allergy issues. The kittens are soft, squishy, and instantly take away any stress you might be having that day.

Gerald is not like everyone else on the planet, though. His wide, gaping smile belies the fact he is screaming inside. Every time one of the kittens squirms he forcibly shoves down an audible cringe. Each soft mew is the worst thing he's ever heard.

He forces his smile wider. "... and that's, how they say, the kitten crumbles. Gerald Trimmings, Action News."

The camera operator holds up his hand to cut the take. Manny grabs his arm before he can say anything. The camera operator looks back at Manny and softly snickers.

Gerald keeps the smiles as long as he can, but eventually it starts to drop. Manny can see his world falling apart in his eyes. The animal wrangler, standing just out of frame, starts to look uncomfortable as well.

Manny lets go of the camera operator's arm, and he cuts the take. The animal wrangler runs over and grabs all the kittens off Gerald. Gerald, for his part, doesn't move until the last creature is gone from his body.

"Was that necessary?" Gerald says as he stands up and brushes kitten fur off his coat.

"It's just for editing, Gerald, you know that," Manny says. "Can't cut too close to the end or they get mad at us."

"Right," Gerald says, taking his coat off to brush it more fiercely. "It's the editors we care about. We sure don't want them being mad at us. The editors."

"Hey, they hold a lot of power," Manny says. "You said yourself I'm the one who makes you look good."

"I did say that."

"I'd say it looked like you were enjoying yourself if I didn't know better."

Gerald puts his coat back on. He likes working with Manny, but he sure made it hard sometimes. Although, good natured ribbing is part of the process, he supposes.

"Sure. I love having those floppy, alien-looking monsters crawling on my person. You may enjoy doing these puff pieces, Manuel, but I do not. Luckily for all of us the governor's speech is tomorrow." He raises a fist in the air empathically. "Finally, something with meat!"

"Meat. Right. Sure you don't want to review the kitty footage? Maybe do the whole thing again, come up with a better quip at the end?"

More ribbing. It gets old. "Jokes. I'm doing my voiceover for that Alzheimer patient Ethel's piece and then going home. I hope you do the same and get some rest for tomorrow's big event."

Manny almost looks touched. "Wow, you care about my well-being?"

Gerald ignores him and walks out of the studio. Manny laughs at the camera operator, who gives him an awkward grin. Maybe he wasn't as funny as he thought he was, but he had to take the sting out of Gerald somehow. His grumpiness and haughty attitude gets old. It was either make jokes or join Gerald in a spiral of anger and depression.

Anne's house is a tiny little thing in the Atlanta suburb of Smyrna. It's one of the older houses in the neighborhood and she's surrounded by older residents, many of whom have lived here for decades. The house she and her husband Stacy own is a cute little ranch style house that was probably the talk of the town when it was built in the 1950s.

Anne walks up to the front door, jingling her keys so the right key will pop up to the top. Exhausted, she yawns, and then remembers Stacy is home, so she doesn't need the key. She opens the door and there he is, squashed up on the couch, watching TV, his eyes half-closed.

He smiles at her. "Hey. I'd get up but I just sat down so I don't want to."

Anne laughs. "Good to see you too. Telly  down?"

"Yep. Just a minute ago. I've been walking him around the house for the past hour, but he finally passed out in the crib."

Anne drops all her stuff near the door and plops on the couch next to Stacy. They make a bit of a mix-matched couple, him so short and squatty, but she loves his little paunchy stomach. It makes a great pillow and she immediately wants to fall asleep when she lays her head down.

"How was work?" Stacy says.

"Went on that field report with Gerald," Anne says, yawning again. "He is such a freaking diva."

"He seems like such a fun guy on TV. Seems like he loves kittens."

Anne laughs. "Sure. TV is all real and you should believe everything."

"I do." He leans down and kisses her forehead. "Telly was doing that grabby thing again today. Just non-stop. Like he wants to hold every piece of dust floating in the air."

"I was telling somebody about that at work," Anne says, repositioning to fully sprawl out on the couch. Stacy always loved how long her legs are. Anne sometimes jokes to her friends that if Stacy could take her legs and just marry them he would. "It's really hard to explain to other people."

"Oh?" Stacy says. Anne can hear the faux curiosity in his voice and knows what he's going to say next. "Talking to who?"

Anne fake sighs. "Manny."

"Yep. Uh-huh. Mister Muscles himself."

"Don't start!"

"No, I'm glad you have friends at work. Hot, hunky, muscular friends who you talk about your life with."

She flips over so she can look him in the eye. "Hmm ... sounds like you're the one who's interested. You should totally ask him out. I can see you two together."

"Too bulky. My stomach and his muscles would get in the way of each other. Just wouldn't work. Tell him I'm sorry."

Anne laughs and flips back over so she can watch the TV. "I will. He'll be crushed." She knows he's joking but she can also detect some jealousy there. It's light, but present, just enough to make sure he knows what he's got with her.

"I did see the piece. With that Ethel lady, I mean. Very weird. I heard it on the radio earlier today, too. Plus, a guy at work says he can see it happening." He shifts to get more comfortable, making him sleepier.

"Her place was so small. Smaller than this house. I don't know how she lives there. She kept offering us Earl Grey."

"What is that?"

"Tea. Tea tea tea." Anne smiles at the memory. "I don't think she gets many visitors."

"Maybe they all disappeared."

Anne can't think of anything to say. She remembers Ethel looking out the window, wondering what she did all day, why nobody would want to visit this sweet old woman. Surely she had family somewhere? Neighbors she talked to or played bridge with?

"You know, like she said the trees vanished or whatever? Maybe she had friends and they vanished?"

Anne can't help but shudder as she thinks of poor Ethel all boxed in, staring at life through the window. She hugs Stacy tight and he rubs her back. In the back room, Telly softly coos in his sleep.

Gerald loosens his tie and breathes a sigh of relief. Ties always make him feel like a small animal is poking him in the Adam's apple all day long. He looks forward to the day when they go out of fashion and he isn't forced to wear one.

His bedroom is ... well, it's pink. Very pink. It looks like an old woman spread fairy dust in the air and let magical beings decorate it for her. There are even fancy little china tea cups on fancy little plates on the dresser. If you tried to imagine Gerald Trimmings, crack WATL reporter, living in the most off-putting place possible, this might not even come to mind as it would be too bizarre.

He flops on the bed, kicking off his shoes as he does so. His sharp suit clashes with the rose-adorned bedspread atop the bed. He doesn't appear uncomfortable or out of place, but if someone from work walked in he would immediately say he was lost.

After swapping out his work garb for more comfortable clothes, he walks out into the kitchen. The rest of the house is decorated just like his bedroom, adorned with dozens of old-timey pictures of relatives long gone and forgotten. In fact, it would fit into Anne's neighborhood just perfectly. The kitchen is small but cozy, painted in a comforting light blue.

"Kitten crumbles, my God," Gerald says as he sits down at the old, faded kitchen table. "Is this what the news has become? Is this what I have become? Why do I let Reed do this to me? I'm a real reporter, dammit!"

There's a noise from the back of the house and Gerald clams up. The noise gets louder and it's the shuffling of slippered feet. The hall light comes on and Gerald quietly sighs so his visitor can't hear him.

"Are you talking to yourself again, dear?" Renee Trimmings, Gerald's mother, walks into the kitchen. It's like the house came to life and walked into the room, as she's clad in a bright pink bathrobe and soft blue slippers.

"Yes, mother," Gerald says, putting his head in his hands, "I am talking to myself. If you had only seen fit to give me a sibling I may not have developed this particular idiosyncrasy."

"Oh, there's your big words again," Renee says, grabbing Gerald from the back in a big bear hug. "Maybe I'll make you a little brother or sister right now. Would that help?"

"No. In fact, I'm pretty sure you just made everything worse. Now I have to imagine you ... ugh."

"Hey, I used to do ok for myself," Renee says, walking over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. "Did you knock them dead tonight, Pidgit?"

His mother had called him Pidgit since he was in second or third grade. He had finally gotten a Nintendo, one of the last of his friends to get one. It came with Super Mario Brothers 2, a game his friends had played years previously so he had nobody to discuss it with or talk about strategies. So of course he confided in his mother that one of the characters, the Pidgit, a little bird with a flying carpet, was giving him major problems. Every time he tried to jump on its head and grab it, he would instead tumble off into the abyss below his television.

And that was that. Gerald would forever be Pidgit to his mother. He often wondered if she even remembered where the name came from. However, he was afraid to ask in case she decided to ramp up its use again.

"Of course I did," Gerald says. "Though if what you mean by 'knock them dead' is to give award-winning advice on the virtues of proper feline care while the awful ghouls touch my flesh, then yes, I did knock them dead. I'm sure all the old ladies in the viewing audience were thrilled."

He tenses up. "Uh, no offense."

"None taken since I'm not old," Renee says. "I'm sure you were great as usual. Did you make any friends?"

"None I don't already have."

"You need more. You used to have so many friends." Renee washes the glass out and puts it back in the cupboard. The kitchen is pristine again. "Do you need anything before I go back to bed?"

"No. Thank you. Have a good night."

"Don't stay up too late, Pidgit." She walks over and leans down, pointing to her cheek. Gerald rolls his eyes and gives her a peck where she points. She lightly slaps his cheek and shuffles back down the hallway, her slippers slapping against her withered feet.

Gerald waits for her door to shut before getting up and raiding the fridge. There's a Tupperware full of some casserole type thing. He takes it out and opens it up to scoop some out for a late-night snack.

On top of the casserole is a sticky note: "Don't eat too much! You need to look your best! Love, Mom XOXO."

Gerald grits his teeth and throws the note away. He scoops out some of the casserole and discovers it's super cheesy, just the way he likes it. He takes a little bit more, promising to wake up early and run it off before his shift tomorrow.

Most would look at Manny and think his house or apartment would be the typical messy bachelor pad. However, he has always been a fan of minimalism. His current apartment reflects that. It looks like several people could live here with the ample space he has, but it's just him. He likes the way the open areas feel, like he has room for so much more stuff but has no desire to fill it.

This evening, though, the wide-open apartment feels like a warehouse more than a cozy home. He tosses his keys on the door-side table along with his wallet as he shuts and bolts the door. He listens to the sounds of other residents making noise in nearby apartments; outside, somebody walks their heavy-set dog, its harsh breathing cutting through the silence.

Then, they're gone, and Manny is left with the emptiness of his apartment. He takes a second to look around in the darkness. Ethel weighs heavily on his mind. Would anybody miss him when he was gone? Would this apartment become his living tomb like Ethel's was to her?

It's not just Ethel, though. He's worked on so many stories over the years; murders, rapes, horrific car crashes, and that bizarre child kidnapping in Cabbagetown they never solved. None of those affected him like this. Something just feels ... off.

It's almost like that feeling when you leave the house but you just know you've forgotten something. It's a nagging space left in your head where you know it's going to come up later and you're going to feel so dumb for forgetting that sweater or deodorant or spare pair of socks. But there's no way to know what you've forgotten, so you just try to put it out of your mind.

Manny has felt like that for several hours. There was no sense in telling Anne or anybody else about it because it was just too difficult to describe.

He walks over to the kitchen and checks the fridge. Amongst all the take-out boxes there's a half-empty bottle of Coke. He drinks a swig but it's flat. Dumping it out in the sink, he wonders when he last bought a Coke. He generally prefers fruity drinks if he's going to get a soda.

He sits on his bed and takes his work boots off, stretching his sore toes out. Manny enjoys the hard work that goes into being a cameraman and doesn't mind standing on his feet all day. However, he really doesn't enjoy the fact he has to wear boots to keep his feet from killing him. Everyone else gets to wear soft, comfy sneakers but they just don't work for him.

The feeling is back, that nagging, pulling sensation he can't shake. He tries to literally shake it by whipping his head around, but it doesn't help. He wonders if he left some equipment on or unchecked at the station and decides that's not it.

On the nightstand next to the bed he sees a picture frame. It's a small, dark brown frame with a picture of Manny and a woman next to him. Manny is wearing a stereotypical pirate costume, complete with huge jangly earrings and poofy pants. The setting of the picture looks like the Georgia Renaissance Festival, which Manny went to last year.

Next to Manny is a woman with a long, flowing skirt. He imagines she was going for a medieval wench type outfit, but she ended up looking like a hippie. There are flowers in her hair and she's wearing bright purple lipstick. She and Manny look like they are having a blast.

The only problem is Manny has no idea who this woman is.

He went to the Renaissance Festival by himself. He doesn't remember meeting anybody in particular, much less this woman. He certainly doesn't remember taking a picture with anybody, much less coming home and framing it.

That nagging feeling intensifies to a degree Manny can't handle. He has to look away from the picture to keep his head from spinning off his body. Standing up, he slams the picture frame down so the picture isn't showing anymore. He feels like he's going to throw up.

Walking away from it makes him feel better. However, he realizes he'll have to come back over here to go to bed, so he grabs the picture frame and throws it out of the living room window. It shatters in the alley behind the apartment building.

Manny hoped he would feel better, but it only brings him back to a light confusion instead of a full-blown panic. He undresses to go take a shower, hoping the water washing the day away will do the trick.

It doesn't, but he convinces himself it does, and it placates him for the time being.

## Chapter 10

In the darkness, Serena feels pressure on her fingers. In the last remnants of her dream her mind justifies this pressure as tiny strawberries with blank faces bouncing on her fingertips. _Stay away, I'm allergic to strawberries_ , she tries to say to them, but can only think it. They respond by sitting down and creating more strawberry pressure on her fingers.

Her brain finally realizes strawberries don't have faces and makes her begin the process of waking up. After a seizure, it's always harder for Serena to wake up and open her eyes. This time, however, she's very curious what's going on with her hand.

She opens her eyes and sees Ginger's bald head. The sweet little girl is half-lying on the bed with Serena, holding her hand. As she shifts around and wakes up, Ginger looks up at her, bright green eyes colored with dread.

"Are you dead?" Ginger says. She's carrying a brand-new multi-colored teddy bear, tags and all.

"Huh?" Serena says, wondering for a second if she's still asleep and dreaming this.

"I hope you're not dead. I saw you shaking last night. Everybody was crying. I wasn't supposed to be up."

"Hmmm," Serena says, sitting up but making sure to keep hold of Ginger's hand. "If I'm dead that means I'm in heaven."

"Why?"

"Because you're with me, and you're a little angel, aren't you?" Serena says.

"No, I'm a movie star!"

"Oh yeah." Serena says, smiling at Ginger's exuberance. "Well, that means I'm not dead if you're a movie star. Thanks for holding my hand. You're a really sweet girl, you know that?"

"I thought you might fly away, so I was holding on to you just in case," Ginger says. She puts the teddy bear on the bed so it can be part of the conversation. "Me and this bear here. I haven't named him yet."

Serena pats the bear on the head. "Nice to meet you, bear. Why would I fly away, Ginger? What do you mean?"

Ginger gingerly lets go of Serena's hand, making sure to keep it close by in case Serena changes her mind and fly away like she said. She points down the hall. "Like that boy's teddy bears. He has so many but he let me borrow some and they flew away. To the edge of the Earth."

Serena sharply sits up. "Edge of ... Ginger, can you see things disappearing all the time like I can?"

"I hope he doesn't get mad at me," Ginger says, grasping on to the bear again. "That's why I was holding on to you. That other bear ran away to the edge of the Earth. It went there to wait."

"Shit," Serena says. Ginger's eyes widen enough to fill her face. "Sorry. Bad word. I can see it too, this ... edge of the Earth."

"My dad helped me come up with that," Ginger says. "He can't see it, but we came up with the name together. I don't think that boy will be mad because he has a lot of ... um ... reruns of teddy bears. So I think it'll be ok."

Serena's back pops as she turns and puts her feet on the floor. They put her into bed without socks and the floor is chilly. She gets some socks and puts them on.

"Which room is he in? Could you show me?"

"Sure!" Ginger wipes drool away from her mouth and grabs Serena's hand. They check the hallway to make sure they won't get stopped by a busybody nurse to tell them what to do.

They walk down a hall Serena hasn't been down before. She wonders if this is the children's wing, to keep them all together for some reason. Or if they sequester them to keep adults from being too upset from seeing so many sick kids at once.

At the end of the hall they come to a dark room. Inside Serena sees a young boy absolutely surrounded by teddy bears. Reruns, indeed. The bears encase the boy in a protective shield, like whoever gave them the bears thought they might physically cushion him from further disease or harm.

Many of them are duplicates but upon closer inspection the bears are from all over the world, either tagged with various countries or containing tags with foreign languages. Ginger picks up one funky looking bear. Serena looks at the tag—it's from Iceland.

The owner of these teddy bears lies in his bed with his eyes closed. He's unbelievably frail, his cheeks sunken in, his breathing labored. There's a smell of impending death in the room.

Serena watches the kid lay there for a second. He doesn't move.

"Let's not wake—" she says.

"Is someone there?" the boy says. Serena jumps in surprise. "Is that you, Ginger? Are you back for another bear?"

"Hi, Shane," Ginger says. "This is my friend Serena. She's from Spain."

"My parents have been to Spain. They brought me a teddy bear from there. It's here somewhere." Serena notices Shane doesn't really move or open his eyes as he talks.

"Nice to meet you, Shane," Serena says. "Ginger just thinks I'm from Spain but I was born here in Georgia. But maybe I'll go to Spain sometime like your parents."

"I bet it's great," Shane says.

"Your bear ran away," Ginger says, frowning. Drool runs down her chin and she wipes it away. "I tried to make it stay but it didn't."

"It's ok," Shane says, still not moving. "I had a feeling that one didn't want to stay. You can pick another one. Maybe this one will stay."

"I already did. I think this one is a good one."

"This is quite a collection," Serena says, inspecting the bears. "Here's one from Japan, another from Egypt, and a pair sewn together that says, 'Pair Up in Paris!'" Serena wonders what that means. "You sure like teddy bears."

"My mom and dad do," Shane says. "Everywhere they go, they bring me back a teddy bear. They go to a lot of places."

"I can see that," Serena says.

Ginger hands her a black bear with "Toronto" on its red shirt. "This one is really funny! What a silly word!"

"They're really rich. They have frequent flyer miles, so that means they're rich." Shane doesn't move but he moans. Serena isn't sure if he's in pain or just a common reaction.

"How'd you know the bear was going to fly away, Shane?"

"I've felt other things go away," he says.

"To the edge of the Earth!" Ginger says, rearranging the bears by color so they can be little blue, yellow, and multi-colored families.

"Some things just feel like they're going to leave. Can't you feel it?"

Serena doesn't answer, watching this little boy breathe. She supposes he won't open his eyes because he can't, or maybe he lost them. Or he could just be exhausted from living like this. She certainly knows how that feels.

"Ginger and I can see it," Serena says. "Many people don't believe it's happening though. It's on the news and everything."

"Maybe they're just ignoring it," Shane says. Ginger takes a teddy bear over to him to play with. He takes it and smiles, his first real movement since they came in the room. "Thanks. I love this one."

_Three sickies_ , Serena thinks. _Can't be a coincidence, right? We're the ones who can see it while everyone else can't, or at least ignores it like Shane says._ An idea hits her.

"Ginger, want to help me solve a case?"

"Huh? I'm not a police person, I'm a movie star."

"Movie stars solve cases in the movies, don't they?"

Ginger stops playing with the bears and taps her chin. "True! What's the case?"

"I'll show you. We need a pen and paper." Serena taps Shane's foot. She can feel he doesn't have all his toes. "It was nice meeting you, Shane."

"You too. You can borrow a bear too if you'd like. I have plenty."

"Stay here until we get back, ok?" Ginger says. Serena can't help but spare a look back at Shane as they leave, his frail body grasping for any semblance of existence.

In parts of Atlanta as well as other parts of the South, there are places where you can go to the all-night, never-closes Waffle House and sit in full view of another Waffle House. Often it will be down the street, or across a busy highway, or something else to justify the proximity, but occasionally you can find a Waffle House that's literally next door to another Waffle House.

Jay, Edith, and Ryu sit in a booth at one such Waffle House, all three staring at the back end of the Waffle House next door to it. They watch as a worker comes out of the back door to dump some trash and smoke a cigarette. He sees them staring and waves nonchalantly, indicating it's a regular occurrence.

"Do you think anybody's ever eaten at both, back to back?" Ryu says.

"Gotta be," Edith says, drinking her coffee. "I'm sure it's a challenge or a dare to people around here."

"Like, how do you think it happened?" Ryu says. He thrusts a fork full of hash browns full of ham chunks and chili into his mouth. "Did they forget the first one was here, make the second one, and go, 'Dammit! We totally forgot!'"

"Then they just left them both here," Edith says.

"I bet the people who live around here have their favorite one. Like that guy over there," Ryu says, nodding towards a round older man wearing overalls. "He likes to come to this one because it's the original, not some cheap knock-off like that other, shitty Waffle House."

Jay continues staring out the window, trying to ignore the pointless banter. He keeps flashing back to the battle with Hela. Why did he walk away so easily?

"That guy over there loves this one because the ambiance is so much better," Edith says, pointing to a younger guy with dreads. "The other one is just too fancy for him. That's where the rich folks go."

"I definitely got the sense this is the people's Waffle House when we walked in," Ryu says, laughing. "What do you think, Jay? How did this anomaly happen?"

No answer. Jay sniffs, completely lost in thought. He keeps seeing Serena's confused face. _Why are you here, Jay? How are you here?_

"Yo, Jayzilla," Ryu says. "Earth to Jay."

"I got a drop to make in a little while," Jay says. He picks up his ceramic mug filled with coffee and it feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.

"Uh, ok," Edith says, shooting Ryu a look. "But what do you think about the Waffle Houses—"

"Who gives a shit." Jay eats the last bite of his sandwich. "People are idiots. Or there was overflow. Or they're going to shut one down soon. Who cares?"

"I'm glad you're curious about life and its unique situations," Edith says.

"Still shook up about yesterday?" Ryu says. He cringes in advance of the question being put out into the air.

Jay drinks more coffee and doesn't answer.

"You know, at the hospital?"

"Nothing happened yesterday at the hospital," Jay says, grunting to indicate he doesn't want to talk about it.

"Oh yeah, what was I thinking," Ryu says.

"How long has it been since you've been to see her?" Edith says. Ryu makes chopping and slashing noises at his neck at her to drop it, but she sits and waits for Jay to answer.

They think he's ignoring them, but Jay is trying to remember how long ago it was. He remembers bringing some sort of cake to the hospital. Butter cream something or other? What was the occasion?

Now he remembers. It was his own birthday. Serena used to make him those cakes. Two, in fact, because he loved them so much. She was upset because she couldn't do normal things, so he made her the cake to show her life could still be normal. Or something like that. Hela took the cake and smashed it into a trash can, saying it was the most selfish thing she had ever seen in her life.

He didn't feel like explaining all this to these clowns.

"Six months," he says.

Edith's jaw drops and her eyes bug out. Jay immediately realizes he can't stand her face.

"Jesus," she says. "How many times have you tried to go in and see her?"

"This was attempt number three."

"In six months you've tried to see your dying wife three times."

"Ex-wife," Ryu says, trying not to make eye contact. Both Jay and Edith shoot him a look.

"That's really it? Are you serious?"

"You get the ex part, right?" Ryu says.

"This is the only time I've been able to see her," Jay says. "The other two times I couldn't even get in the door. Her mother has effectively barred me from the hospital."

"Weren't you guys together since high school? Or middle school?" She crosses her arms. "That's a long-ass time, man. I don't care how much I hated an ex, I would go visit them in the fucking cancer ward."

"Language!" The trio turns around to see the man in the overalls glaring at them. "If you want to talk like that, go to other Waffle House. This is the nice one and we don't use that language in here, got it?"

Ryu elbows Edith. "I told you!" He waves to the guy. "Sorry." The man harrumphs and goes back to eating his breakfast.

"Things happen," Jay says.

Across town, on the sixth floor of Grady Memorial Hospital, Serena and Ginger make the rounds into the many rooms of their neighbors. While Serena may have had a tough time on her own, the sight of Ginger immediately softens everyone but the hardest of hearts. Serena has a piece of a paper with tally marks on it.

"Things happen and people change," Jay says, having no idea his ex-wife and her new friend were on an adventure at the moment. "Some people like to live their life to the fullest and experience things as fast as they can. To get as much done as humanly possible."

Another room visit for Serena and Ginger. This room is occupied by a middle-aged woman with only one breast. She nods yes, and Serena tallies her answer down. Ginger shakes the woman's hand and the woman fawns over her cute little face.

"Other people like to waste time and do nothing and be perfectly happy with that," Jay says.

"I wonder who is who in this hypothetical," Ryu says, finishing up his food and letting out a belch.

Another room visit but this time Serena and Ginger are met with the adult children of the resident, an elderly man with a giant wool cap on. He's frowning so much his face looks like it might crack in half. Upon seeing Ginger the frown lets up a little, but the children chase Serena and Ginger out of the room before they can even get a word in. The man goes back to frowning even more than before and they shut the door.

"She got her wish, anyway," Jay says. "She gets to lay around and do nothing the rest of her life, which I guess is around the corner waiting for her. A do-nothing life, just like she dreamed of."

Serena and Ginger wind back up in Serena's room. They sit on the bed and look at Serena's paper: fourteen for "Yes," three for "No," and two for "Stop Bothering Me."

At the top is the subject of the study: "Can you see the world disappearing?"

Serena taps the pen against the paper absentmindedly as she wonders what to do next. Next to her, Ginger yawns and lays her head down on Serena's lap.

"Well, at least you're filling your time with meaningful pursuits, Mister Brooding Dope Dealer himself. Living life to the fullest." Edith _tsks_ , almost out of habit rather than actual disapproval.

"I've got a drop to make," Jay says.

"Always a fucking pleasure having your around, Edith," Ryu says. The overalls guy throws his arms in the air and Ryu waves at him sheepishly. "I know, I know, this is the good Waffle House."

They pay the bill and walk outside, breathing in the greasy air of the rear of the other Waffle House. Edith waves and walks over to her car to leave.

"What a bitch," Ryu says, lighting up a cigarette.

"Nah," Jay says. "She's right."

Ryu stops mid-drag and raises an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Everything, really," Jay says. Serena's confused face flashes in his brain. _How are you here, Jay?_ "Can't blame her for being honest."

"I can." Ryu takes a few more short drags and flicks the cigarette away. "Let's get out of here."

## Chapter 11

The steps of Atlanta City Hall look like the steps to Heaven to Gerald. To him, they look like gleaming white hope for the future. His future, anyway. He isn't entirely sure how he feels about the economic development plan the local government has concocted, but he knows his viewers find it controversial. And that is all that matters to Gerald.

There's a decent crowd today, a sea of concerned faces. Not angry faces, which means the plan might have a chance of passing, but concerned enough to be present for a mid-morning economic development plan. To Gerald, that can't be good for the plan, or for the mayor's re-election campaign.

Holding up his fingers to frame the shot, Gerald huffs dramatically. "This isn't the ideal location, Manuel."

Manny is busy finishing his preparations for the shot. He is having trouble caring about any of this, much less Gerald's persistent whining. Ever since last night he hasn't felt like he's all there and he would rather not be here. Of course, staying at home wasn't in the question either.

"It'll do," Manny says.

"I want to get some shots of the crowd," Gerald says, still holding up his fingers so Manny will look at him and know he's directing. "We need to see the response. Show our viewers what the people really think of this guy and his development plans."

"I got it, Jerry, thanks." The battery pack is sticking again and Manny has to jam it in.

Gerald realizes Manny isn't looking and puts his hands down. He looks around at the impatient crowd and wonders what all these people do to be able to be here today. They can't all be journalists, right?

"I don't trust him," Gerald says.

"Who?"

"The mayor. Something about him sets my journalistic spine tingling."

"Isn't that bias, Jerry?"

"A true journalist can admit his or her bias," Gerald says, puffing out his chest and deepening his voice. "That way it's not subtly undermining your every move or word. And I say this administration is up to something. His plans for the Old Fourth Ward ... just downright criminal. Criminal!"

"Man, you're really worked about it, aren't you?" Manny hoists the camera up, all ready to go. "I've never seen you like this."

"Damn right," Gerald says, clearing his throat. He means it, too. This isn't just bluster. While overly dramatic, Gerald truly feels the call of the journalist. "This is our chance, Manuel. Corruption. Intrigue. Corporate fat cats. This is what gets you noticed. This is our ticket to the top of the mountain."

Looks like things are ready to go for the conference. Gerald has been to enough of these to sense when activity is about to kick off, and the buzz is high at the moment. He gets that familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He sees the mayor start to walk out.

Then his phone rings. It's the station.

"What? What do you want?" he says, shaking the phone in frustration. "We are about to film here."

Manny watches Gerald's face, also feeling something is about to go down, although not what poor Jerry wants. Sometimes he manages to feel some sort of empathy for the guy, although it generally fades quickly enough. Usually when Gerald gets all haughty and full of himself.

"What do you mean? We're all ..."

Gerald listens. Manny quietly starts to put the camera away, knowing the shoot is nixed. "For Christ's sakes, we're all set ..."

The mayor is up at the podium. Manny shrugs and decides to shoot the intro anyway while they're here.

"Reed, this was supposed to be my big story." He cuts his eyes over to Manny and leans into the phone. "You promised me!"

He listens a bit longer and then hangs up, frustrated. Manny is sure if it wasn't a station phone he would've smashed it on the ground.

"Well?" Manny says as the mayor greets the crowd with a big friendly wave. He isn't sure why Gerald doesn't trust him, he seems like a congenial sort. Maybe it's because he's so chubby and kind of looks like Santa Claus.

"The story is cut," Gerald says through gritted teeth. "Reed wants us back as soon as possible. We likely are not running this very important story today. Or ever."

"Why? What happened?"

"More of that disappearing-world garbage," Gerald says, rubbing his temple. "He wants us to talk to that Ethel woman again!"

"Alright, I'll start packing up," Manny says.

"Good morning," the mayor says, giving another big friendly wave. "Thank you for joining me here today."

The crowd claps, but hesitantly, like they don't want to judge the situation too quickly. Gerald's face scrunches up as he makes a quick decision.

"Fuck Reed," he says. "We're shooting this. I don't care if the whole goddamn world disappears while we're doing this. I want this on tape. This is the news, dammit."

"Wow, biased and insubordinate," Manny says with a grin. "I can't believe my ears."

"We'll go make science fiction later." He motions for Manny to roll. Manny obliges.

The mayor motions for everyone to calm down and be still. "I know everyone is concerned with the budget and the economic development plan we concocted, and I assure you I will get to that in due time. However ..."

"Oh no," Gerald says, getting that familiar feeling again.

"... I want to first discuss what's on everyone's minds. I know it's been on my mind as well, so I feel it's important to address. The reported vanishings, or disappearances, or whatever you may call them, have sent a tidal wave of confusion and shock amongst the city."

Later, when reviewing the footage, the editors at WATL will suddenly cover their ears at the loud, anguished roar of one Gerald Trimmings as his hard work and dedication go up in smoke.

## Chapter 12

"My word, what a lazy butt."

The words float into Serena's eyesight, physically, like a waveform on a computer. She can't tell where they're coming from, but suddenly she feels pressure on her head, over her eyes. There's a sea of red, then grey, then black, then a mix of stars and swirly shapes.

Finally, she realizes she fell asleep with her arm draped over her face. She moves it, but her arm fell  asleep and the tingles are too intense. She tries not to move, so the blood can flow again.

"Well, do you want lunch now or not?" Her mother's voice. Lunch? What day? Where is she?

"It's some sort of roast and mashed up Brussels sprouts," Hela says. "Honestly, why can't they just label the food? It'd be nice to know what this stuff is." Hela removes the top and takes a sniff. "Smells ok, though."

"When did you get here?" Serena says. She realizes she mumbled it as Hela doesn't answer. She clears her throat. "When did you get here?"

"About half an hour ago. You sure scrunch up in the weirdest positions when you're sleeping."

"Maybe I'm part cat," Serena says. She tries moving her arm. It's still very tingly but recovered enough to scratch at the air like she has claws.

"If you are, it's on your father's side," Hela says, getting Serena's table ready.

"Mom."

Hela ignores the admonishment. It drives Serena crazy she can't go one day without some remark about him. Sure, he took off in the middle of the night and never came back, but at what point do you just let it go and forgive someone?

"So, what's with the mid-morning nap?" Hela says. She removes the top of the tray and stirs the Brussels sprouts.

"Just tired, I guess." For a second Serena can't remember why she had to take a nap. Then she remembers her adventure with Ginger. _I hope Ginger didn't get wiped out like this too_ , she thinks.

"Can't blame you. After last night you sure needed it."

Serena sits up to try and eat some lunch. "Oh yeah. Ginger said I had a seizure?"

"Ginger ..." Hela says, sitting back down and picking up another of her trashy books. Serena sees this one has a samurai and an Amazon warrior on it. What the hell is that one about? "Oh, right, the little red-faced girl."

"Yep, that's her. I think that's her middle name, Little-Red-Faced Girl."

Hela ignores the sarcasm. "It was nothing Earth-shattering. I wasn't worried."

As if on cue, Nurse Marilyn walks by the door. She sees Hela and walks into the room.

"Hey!" she says to Hela. "I meant to tell you, we have showers here you can borrow so you don't have to go all the way home. Plus, we have blankets and extra pillows if you want to sleep here again like last night. Just let us know and we'll get them for you, ok?"

Hela's face turns from red to white like she's personally struggling to keep it under control. "Ok. Thanks."

"How are you today, Serena?" Nurse Marilyn says, her face turning more serious.

"I'm ok. Ready to chow down on ..." She pokes at the meat. "... this."

"Pot roast! It's really good." Serena can see she's lying. "Enjoy!" She pats Hela on the shoulder and leaves.

Serena tries some of the meat. She's had worse—sadly, most of it here in the hospital. She can feel Hela being embarrassed in the chair next to her, so she decides not to dig in and start a fight. Her mother doesn't like people to know she cares. Serena can't help but feel some sympathy for her.

Instead, she asks: "Hey, can I borrow your phone?"

"To do what?"

"To make a phone call?"

Hela puts the book down. "To who, smart mouth?"

"Can you just ..." She sees Hela's face and knows it's not going to happen like that. "Fine. The news."

Hela laughs. "Is the pot roast really that bad?"

"No. I think I figured something out. And I think they need to hear it."

"What do you think you know that they would want to hear?"

Serena feels her blood pressure rise but tries to tamp the anger down. "I'm asking nicely, Mother."

"There is no need to bother anybody with your nonsense," Hela says, holding her book up to block Serena.

Well, that did it. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Watch the language."

"Why would you say that? Why would you assume it's nothing but nonsense?"

"I didn't mean it like that. Just keep calm. It's not good for your health."

"You acting like this isn't good for my health." She angrily takes another bite of the food and shoves the rest away. The little table squeaks as it rolls away.

"What do you need to tell 'the news' that's so important?" Hela says, moving the book down to look at Serena's face.

Serena knows she can't tell her. There's no way she'd understand. Plus, it would entail telling her she was walking around the floor this morning.

"Can I just borrow the phone?"

Hela watches her daughter's face, knowing she's leaving something out. Serena has never been a good liar. She remembers when Serena was fifteen and Hela had to go away for the weekend and left the car behind. When she came back the car was in a totally different position and had extra miles on it. Serena tried to lie and says she never touched it but she may as well have had a giant note stapled to her forehead giving detailed routes to the parties she attended.

"No," Hela says. "Not until you tell me what this is all about." She goes back to reading her book. Well, pretending to, as she knows this won't be the end of the conversation.

Serena sighs. Hela waits for her to say something, but it never comes.

"Why can't you tell me?" she says, her voice taking on that "mom who knows her kid is hiding something" tone. "What are you up to?"

"I'm not ..." Serena says, realizing it's futile. "Fine. It's about the disappearances."

Serena has never seen her mother's eyes roll so hard in her life. "Oh, Jesus save us," Hela says.

"Ginger and I were up this morning ..."

"Hence the nap."

"... asking other people on the floor whether or not they can see them happening. Guess what? Most everybody here can. Just people on this floor who—"

"Don't say it," Hela says. "This is a bunch of nonsense and you know it."

"No, it's not!" Serena's voice starts to rise but she tamps it down again. "It's not. I don't think non-sickies can see it."

"Non-sickies, huh?" Hela crosses her legs but then uncrosses them, clearly agitated. "Of course they can't. Just drop it. You'll sound like a loon on the phone!"

"If I can tell them what I found, maybe they can—"

"I won't allow this!"

"But I think it's only people like me who are dying who—"

Hela springs out of her chair. "Shut up, Serena!" She's so loud another one of the floor nurses walks over to see what the ruckus is. Hela walks out and puts her hand up in her face to tell her to not even bother.

Serena sits in bed, shaking in anger and shame. Shame because of her mother's insistence that none of this was happening, that Serena was going to be fine, that time wasn't running out on all of them. She could make a difference with one call, but her mother couldn't see past—

Suddenly Hela's phone lands next to Serena. She looks up, but Hela is already gone, likely storming back down the hall. Serena promises herself she will process this exchange later, but right now she has some history to make.

## Chapter 13

Piedmont Park isn't quite as lush and green as it was the last time Jay was here. The bridge in the middle of the park looks worn down. If Jay were more observant he would notice large patches of trees have been removed, but instead he focuses on making his drop and getting out.

"This place looks different," Ryu says. Jay had brought him along, basically because it was much quicker than driving to the apartment and then walking over here. Besides, this should only take a second.

"You come here a lot to notice that?" Jay turns down the pathway to head towards the bottom of the bridge. Not a lot of runners out today but there are several people milling about in the middle of the open greenway heading towards 10th Street.

"No, but still," Ryu says, taking a deep breath. "Smells different too."

"Quit being fucking weird." They reach the point where Jay needs to climb down to the bottom of the bridge. "Stay here. He'll get freaked if I'm not alone."

Ryu nods and looks around, either looking for something to do or just plain uncomfortable, Jay can't tell which. Could be both. _Who cares_.

"Go make some friends or something," Jay says, gesturing towards the group wandering around in the middle of the park. "They look like they could use a buddy."

"Yeah ... just, go do your thing so we can get outta here," Ryu says.

Jay turns and heads to his usual spot. He and Ryu have known each other since middle school, and they are basically brothers at this point, but Ryu drives him crazy sometimes. It would be nice to have some alone time. He supposes deep down he feels some responsibility for him; after all, Jay is the reason Ryu got into this lifestyle in the first place.

He slides down the embankment, careful to avoid the few sharps rocks laid out on the hill. He wonders, as he's always done, why the people who run the park randomly put a few rocks on this hill. It seemed dangerous and pointless to him, but he supposes that was their job, to keep things interesting in this boring park.

He sees the twitchy guy waiting for him behind the pillar. He looks sketchier and twitchier than usual, but maybe it's just Jay being annoyed at having to come down here. Jay waves and heads over.

Ryu, for his part, has taken Jay's advice. He wanders over to the people aimlessly wandering about on top of the nearby hill. He watches as one man in a very nice business suit walks in a small circle. He's holding his right arm out as he does so, looking incredibly confused. At one point he stops, wiggles his arm, and continues his circle journey.

Another man wanders into Ryu's eyesight. He appears just as confused as the circle man, although this one is staring straight up into the sky, rubbing his bald head. To Ryu he seems awfully young to have a bald head like this and to look so worried. The man looks at his hands, rubs his head again, and continues staring into the sky.

Ryu walks over to this young, confused man and taps him on the shoulder. The man jumps and looks back at Ryu.

"You ok?" Ryu says. The young man nods like he's in a dream. Ryu sees his eyes are glazed over, as if there's a physical manifestation to block him from what he's seeing. He turns back to the sky, seeking something in the clouds, trying to answer a question that he can't remember.

"It gets easier," Ryu says. The man ignores him.

Ryu hears shouting and turns. Jay's sketchy looking "customer" is up in Jay's face, pointing and gesturing. Jay looks taken aback. Ryu walks closer to hear what's going on.

"What the fuck did you give me, man?" the twitchy man says, pushing Jay's chest. "You fuck with the formula?"

"Fuck with the formula? Fuck you talking about?" Jay says, trying to appear intimidating. It's not working, for either of them. "I gave you the same shit you always buy."

"Bullshit. I can see it, man. I can see it and this is your fault." The twitchy man backs up and looks around in a panic. "Half this fucking park, man. Folding. Folding into itself. And I can see it folding. This is on you."

Jay puts his hands up. "I told you this shit was going to kill you. And you didn't listen, so this is what happens."

"Yeah, motherfucker? Well this is what fucking happens to you!" Too late, Jay sees the guy has a shiv in his left hand. He juts it straight into Jay's side. As he crumples  to the ground, the only thing Jay can think of is why the guy had a shiv and not an actual knife.

"Gone, man, just gone," the twitchy man says as he tucks the shiv away and runs off into the bowels of the park.

Ryu sees this happen from afar. He doesn't see the shiv, but does see Jay's customer make a sharp motion towards him and Jay drop like a sack of potatoes. It wasn't too hard to figure out what happened.

"What gets easier?" Ryu feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see the young man staring at him. Ryu shakes his hand off of him and runs off to help Jay.

"Dude. Dude. Dude." He slides down the embankment and runs over to Jay's prone body. "Dude. Don't be dead."

"That ... goddamn crankhead ..." Jay says through gritted teeth. Dark blood pours from his side.

"Don't talk, man," Ryu says. He stands up and cups his hands. "Help! Help!"

"Call 911 you idiot."

"Oh, yeah, fuck, good idea." Ryu says, whipping out his phone. "Keep breathing and don't go to sleep or nothing ... Hello? Yes, help! Help! We need help ... oh, we're at Piedmont Park. Near the bridge. Just under it, actually."

"Christ, I'm going to die," Jay says, grimacing at the pain.

"Positive thoughts, man," Ryu says to Jay. Then, into the phone: "Stab wound. In the side. Some homeless guy I think. Bleeding pretty bad. Send help!"

Ryu listens as Jay tries to put pressure on the wound. "You got it." He hangs up and runs over to Jay. "She says to put pressure on the wound."

"No shit."

Ryu shoves his hands on top of the cut. He can see how deep it is and it doesn't look good. It looks like it may have nicked some of Jay's organs. Ryu can't tell which ones as everything is bloody and gross.

"Asshole tried to say I'd done something to him, like my shit was laced or something," Jay says.

"Try not to talk. I think it's making the blood squirt out more."

"What the fuck was he ..." Jay freezes. "Shit. Shit, man, I'm still carrying."

"Are you serious?"

"You gotta take it. You gotta get this crap out of here before the cops show up."

"Whoa, whoa ..."

Jay pleads with his eyes. "I'm going away if you don't. For a long time. I know it's my fault. I know it's my fault ..."

"Ok, ok," Ryu says. He reaches into Jay's pockets and takes out the remaining baggies. "Is this it?"

Jay nods.

"Yeah, well, if I flush it all don't blame me." Ryu tucks everything into his coat as far as he can. "Jesus Christ."

"Fuck me this hurts. Doesn't make sense. Doesn't make sense."

Enough blood has seeped out to form a small pool beneath Jay's body. Ryu can see a glimmer of the sun in it. "What doesn't make sense?"

"I wanted to spin off. Now ... I'm dragging my feet," Jay says, his voice growing heavier and sleepier by the second. "Why won't I let go ... doesn't make sense ..."

Ryu slaps Jay's face. "Hey, you got to stay awake. Don't make me slap you again like the bitch you are."

Jay manages a tiny smile. "Fuck. You."

Ryu notices commotion from up the hill and sees paramedics charging towards them. "They got here quick. They're almost here. Just hang on."

He looks down to reassure Jay, but his eyes are closed. He slaps him again but there's no response.

"Jay? Jay!"

## Chapter 14

Reed can already feel his head start hurting as his office door flies open to reveal an infuriated Gerald. He watches Gerald stand there for a second, his petulant little hands balled up in fists, trying to look intimidating. Reed thinks he looks like a cartoon character. Not that he would tell him.

Before Gerald can start berating him, he reaches into his desk and pulls out a chompin' cigar.

"Yes?" Reed says, now prepared for the assault.

"What. The. Hell." Gerald says, slamming the door behind him. "That speech was it, Reed. It!" He stomps over to the desk and puts his fists down, trying to look like a gorilla. "My big chance to make something of myself, to throw those proverbial and quite literal kittens aside—"

"Let me stop you there." Reed puts a hand up as he chomps on his cigar. "That's enough. Why aren't you on the way to the Murmen woman's apartment for that follow-up?"

"Are you not listening to me?"

"Oh, I am," Reed says as he sits down in his big chair. "And boy, listen, nobody here understands more than me. But right now we have a real story to chase." Gerald puts his hand up to start talking and Reed stops him. "Whoa. Not what I meant. But this shit is everywhere and I can't—"

Gerald dramatically throws his hands in the air. "Gah! We used to be on top of the news, not chasing ghosts!"

Reed waits for him to stop. "And I can't imagine sending anyone else out on this very important story, Gerald Trimmings."

His ego stoked, Gerald finally starts to calm down ... a little. "Well. Hmph. What more can that old bat tell us?"

"We both know you didn't treat this with the utmost respect last time. There's bound to be more meat there. It's our best lead."

A knock at the door. It's Timmy, the little intern from Georgia State. Reed waves him in. "Bad news, sir."

"What is it?" Reed chomps harder.

"Ethel Murmen passed away earlier today. Heart attack."

"Shits and biscuits!" Reed says. He leans his head down to think what to do next.

"Oh great," Gerald says, "so we cut the speech for nothing? Absolutely terrific."

Timmy cuts his eyes over to Gerald as if to say _what an asshole_. Out loud he says: "I do have some good news, though."

"Spill it!" Reed stands up, ready for action.

Gerald crosses his arms and glares at the kid.

Suddenly on the spot, Timmy freezes up. "Uh ... maybe you should talk to her ..."

"Talk to who, kid?"

Timmy starts to sweat. "She's on line three!" He runs out of the room.

Reed shakes his head. "I don't think that kid is going to cut it."

Gerald snickers. Reed picks up the phone and hits line three. "You've got Reed."

Gerald can't hear the other end of the conversation, but he can read Reed's face as he listens to the caller. Reed has never been able to hide his emotions on his face, his thick eyebrows bouncing up and down with practically every word he hears. Gerald knows immediately this is a particularly juicy story as the eyebrows are bouncing in double time.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. How many you say? Uh-huh." Gerald waits and listens with anticipation. Could this be his next big assignment?

"No, it's fine, I know the hospital director," Reed says. "I can arrange it. Are you ok with it? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. No, thank you for calling, this is a huge deal. Thanks for thinking of WATL first."

He hangs up and looks at Gerald. Gerald waits a few seconds but can't take it anymore. "Well?"

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"Trying to think of who to put on this story. Slapgas, maybe, or perhaps Hamtime. I think they're available." He starts to pick up the phone.

Gerald grabs the phone and puts it back down on the cradle. "That sounded juicy, and I want in on this. What is it? I'm in. Just let me get my team."

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Reed studies the face of his superstar reporter. "That was a woman named Serena. She's at Grady Memorial, in the cancer ward. Supposedly she has proof of what might be causing these disappearances."

Now it's Gerald's turn to wear his emotions on his face. Reed watches, not without some glee, as he wrestles with getting a big story versus feeling like the whole world is putting one on over him.

"Slapgas? Hamtime? Hell, why not just send Timmy the hapless intern?" Gerald says, apparently making his choice. "It's my story or it's nobody's story. Nobody's!"

"Fine," Reed says, pointing pointedly at Gerald's face. "But no pussyfooting around this time. I mean it. Get the story, the full story. I don't care if you, or your team, or Jesus Himself comes down to tell you this whole thing is bullshit, you get the story, you hear me?"

Gerald puffs out his chest. "Who do you think I am?" He stomps out of Reed's office.

Reed walks to the door and watches him go. Nearby, Timmy types out an email. Reed nods at him.

"That's how you do it, kid," he says. "Make 'em want it. These guys like Gerald, they just need a little validation. Hell, we all do, right?"

Timmy freezes again. "Y ... yes, sir," he says.

"Do some work or something," Reed says, walking back into his office.

Manny looks at the well-worn door in the secret hallway, waiting for Anne to show up and join him for their daily break. He wonders what happened here and why there are so many marks on the door.

He wishes he had something to do while he waits instead of thinking about this kind of stuff. It just adds to his growing feeling something is wrong in his life.

He hears footsteps, his heart already racing. He sees Anne walk around the corner and then stop. She looks like she's counting or trying to recall something. She turns back around to head down the hallway again.

Manny runs after her. "Hey!"

Anne stops and finally sees Manny. "What? What?"

Manny is taken aback. Anne looks like her mind is somewhere off in the mountains. "You ok?"

"Yeah, what do you want?" She goes back to counting or whatever the hell she's doing.

"I have a question, but I can ask another time ..." He's seriously considering calling an ambulance. She looks like she might have had a stroke.

"Just hurry, will you?"

"Ok, fine, yeah," he says, now just annoyed. "Do you remember a Bethany?"

"Bethany? Bethany who?"

"I don't know," Manny says, leaning against the wall. "I found a picture in my apartment with a strange woman. Then I found another. And another. Then I found a bunch. Apparently, her name is Bethany."

"I don't remember a Bethany. Well, I had a Bethany in my high school, but I doubt that's her."

"Me too." Manny notices Anne is already drifting away. "You sure you're ok?"

"Yeah ... I just ... bad day, I guess," she says. She drifts away again, and Manny waits this time. "It's just ..."

"There you are!" Gerald's voice thunders down the hallway. Manny and Anne groan.

"We're just taking a break, Jerry," Manny says.

"No breaks. We got an assignment."

"Yeah, Ethel again, I heard," Anne says. "It'll be nice to see her again."

"Nope. Dead. New assignment."

Anne's face drops. "Oh my God. Dead? What happened?"

Gerald waves them down the hall. "Huh? Who cares? We're going to the cancer ward at Grady. Big deal. Let's roll! Make history!"

Anne and Manny share a glance before joining Gerald. Anne elbows Manny. "Did you ask Gerald about Bethany?"

"Bethany? Bethany who?" Gerald says, overhearing.

"Do you remember a Bethany? I found pictures—"

"Had a cousin named Bethany. Dead, I think. Drugs or something. Why?"

"I doubt ... never mind, it's nothing," Manny says.

Anne sees on his face that it's not really "nothing" but she can't help but focus on her own troubled mind. Plus, now she can't help but think about poor Ethel Murmen. Ethel and her tea. Earl Grey. So sad to lose someone like that, even if she only knew her for a brief afternoon.

She tries to ignore it as they head to the next big story.

The nurses at Grady Memorial are in a tizzy with all the activity in the cancer ward today. While Manny and everyone else from the station get ready for the shoot, the nurses make sure to walk by the room and give them dirty looks.

"I cannot believe Janice signed off on this," Nurse Marilyn says to the group. They all nod and cluck in agreement.

Nurse Lisa laughs. "Come on. Be realistic. Anything to promote the hospital. She knows what's up."

Nurse Marilyn nods at the onlookers poking their heads out of their rooms. "Look at all that, though. That can't be good for their health."

"A little excitement never hurt anybody," Nurse Lisa says. "Let's all pretend we still have jobs and get back to work."

She shoos the group away to do their work. Inside, she agrees with Marilyn. But what could she do about it?

Inside Serena's room, Anne sits with Serena, getting her prepped for the shoot. She applies some light makeup, admiring Serena's skin.

"Shouldn't just be me doing this," Serena says, trying to stay still. "There's a little girl named Ginger in the children's ward. She was my little Watson in this. You should talk to her, too."

"Nice, thanks," Anne says, powdering Serena's forehead. "I'll go find out about her and see if it's ok to talk to her." Anne pauses, unsure of how to ask this considering why they were here. "So ... you can actually see this happening?"

"You can't?" Serena says with a wry smile.

Anne smiles back. "I see your point. Maybe I just haven't noticed. Why do you think that is? I suppose I should let Gerald ask these questions."

"Actually, you may have just said it. You just haven't noticed. What all have you got going on in your life right now?"

Anne stops applying makeup and sits back to think. "Well ... I'm a producer at a mid-range TV station so I do everything. Plus, I produce some of the in-house content. Also I'm a single mom, so there's that."

Serena laughs again. "Well, there you go! Why would you be able to notice something like a street light going missing or a music store you've never been in has vanished? It's all a matter of perspective. People are so busy."

"I feel like it's a little bigger than that, but that's a good start anyway."

Anne looks over at Gerald who is busy applying his own makeup in a little mirror. He stops and admires himself. As he does so, Hela walks over and forcefully taps him on the shoulder.

"Uh oh," Serena says. Anne looks at her quizzically. Serena nods over to the oncoming scene. "My mother."

"Excuse me," Hela says.

Instantly Gerald turns on the superstar flash. "Hello! Gerald Trimmings, reporter with—"

"I know who you are," Hela says. "Cut the crap. You see that girl over there?" She points over to Serena who gives her a look. "She's a sick young girl. You are exploiting her."

"Actually, she called us—"

Hela puts her hand up. "I don't like this at all. I will sue you for anything that happens to her. I might just sue you now."

"Miss ..." Gerald says, putting out his hand, which Hela ignores. "Serena's mother, I assume? Miss Binn, I assure you nothing will happen to her. Again, she contacted us for this interview. It's entirely up to her, isn't it?"

"You don't have any kids, do you, Mister Trimmings?"

Gerald scoffs. "Of course not! The thought."

Hela looks confused. "Ok, well, you don't understand what I'm going through."

Anne raises her hand. "Miss Binn, I do have a child, and I assure you I will take care of your daughter the way I take care of mine. If she gets tired we'll stop immediately and let her rest."

Hela turns her anger towards Anne. "Oh, you have a child, so you automatically know—"

"Mom." Serena pleads with her eyes for her to shut up. Hela sees her, thinks about it, and glares at Gerald before walking away.

"Sorry about that," Serena says to Gerald.

He waves it off. "Nowhere near my most intense encounter. I once stared down a gunman during a robbery."

"Really? When was this?"

"In Miami, before I moved to Atlanta," Gerald says, going back to his routine of primping in the mirror. "This place is a cakewalk compared to that fiery hot town."

"There we go," Anne says as she finishes makeup on Serena. "Beautiful. You're lucky, you barely need anything. I bet you wake up looking like a million bucks."

"I wish." Gerald turns the mirror towards Serena so she can see herself. "Not bad." She snaps and points at herself like she's super spiffy. She laughs at herself.

"Do you want a wig?" Anne says, immediately regretting it. She doesn't detect any hurt on Serena's face. "Ah ... I didn't mean it like that, just ... argh."

Serena touches Anne's hand. "Don't worry about it. It's a good question." She rubs her head. "You know, I was in beauty pageants when I was little. Not by choice, of course, but who wants to do that stuff when they're a kid? I just wanted to go outside and run in the mud or listen to music. I never won any but always placed high. Long, flowing, bright crimson hair."

Serena looks at herself in the mirror again. "I wish I could say it all vanished into the ether, like this other stuff I see vanishing, but it was normal and boring. Just fell out in clumps. I got to pick it off the floor and the sink and everywhere else every day."

"I'm sorry," Anne says. "That must have been hard."

"Yeah, well," Serena says. "Less to wash."

Anne laughs. "You said the little girl's name was Ginger?" Serena nods. "I'll go look for her. Gerald, you know what to do."

Gerald looks at Manny who gives him a big thumbs up. "Ok, Serena," he says. "Your time to shine."

A television plays silently in the corner of Jay's hospital room. Jay chooses to look at the cement wall instead. He wonders who painted the hospital and if they were proud of their accomplishment after finishing. Did they stand back and admire what they'd done?

He frowns. It's very quiet in this area of the hospital and he feels like they shoved him to the back somehow. If this was a restaurant he would've been sitting by the bathroom door, or perhaps the kitchen door, getting slammed into every time someone exited with food.

If I'm going to be in the hospital, might as well be where the action is.

Making matters worse, Edith walks in, a huge smile on her face.

"Found you!" she says. She's carrying a small vase of flowers, probably from the shop in the hospital. "Boy did they shove you in the back far enough."

"Hmph." Jay frowns more.

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"He went home. He had ... something to do," Jay says. He really hoped he didn't flush all that crank down the drain. That was money wasted. "He's the one that called 911 when I got shanked."

"I think they call it stabbed," Edith says as she adjusts the flowers and sets them next to Jay so he can look at them.

"When the addict shanks you with a literal shank, I call it getting shanked."

"Damn, seriously?" Edith's eyes grow wide. "That could've really torn your insides up, huh?"

Jay crosses his arms and goes back to admiring the paint job on the walls. He notices there's an off-white spot near the ceiling and wonders what happened there.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," Edith says.

"It doesn't matter."

"I probably shouldn't have opened my mouth. It wasn't right."

"I told you it doesn't matter," Jay says. A sharp wave of pain rolls through him and he waits it out. "It happened. Then I got stabbed. It happened. We move on, as fast as possible. There's no sense lingering." The sharp wave comes back, less so this time. "Though I'm going to beat the shit out of that druggie trash the next time I see him."

"Do you know why he did it?"

Jay shoots a look at Edith. "Why? Because he's a crazy druggie. He was seeing shit and blaming me for it. Said he could see all this shit disappearing and said I gave him something to make it happen. He said something like the world was folding into itself. I told him he was a loon and didn't want anything to do with it, then he shanked me and took off. Ryu called the ambulance and now I'm here. Now you're all caught up."

"Wow," she says. "Gives me the spooks. Do you suppose ..."

"Don't you dare go batty on me too," Jay says. "Everyone else is losing their damn minds. You're supposed to be the no-nonsense, bitchy one in our little gang."

The TV flashes, some ridiculous commercial or something. It catches Jay's eye and he thinks he sees a flash of Serena's face. He quickly dismisses it as an illusion.

"I know I am, but it's got me freaked out. My neighbor says they can see it. Says the parking garage down the street is gone. I don't remember a damn parking garage, but she swears it was there, and now it's gone. What does that mean, you think?"

"Things vanish. People disappear. It's called dying. It's not magic, it's just death. It changes nothing."

"Don't you think that means our world is a lie?" Edith says, shaking a little. "Doesn't it freak you out a little to think you could blink away at any second? It's like we're just mirages waiting to shimmer away."

Jay doesn't answer. The TV definitely flashes Serena's face this time. He looks around for the remote.

"Jay?" Edith says. "What are you doing?"

"That lying bitch," he says as he turns the TV up.

The main shot is of Serena talking. The anchor on screen, Billy Slapgas, looks like he's never frowned in his entire life. His head bobs up and down like crazy when he talks. "Join us tonight when we have an exclusive interview with a young woman and several other patients at Grady Memorial Hospital who claim to have an idea of what is causing the recent phenomenon known as 'The Disappearing.' That's up next on Action News at six on WATL."

The feed cuts to another commercial full of flashing lights and loud screaming. Jay turns the TV back down.

"Was that who I think it was?" Edith says.

"That lying bitch," Jay says again.

Click, and the lights all come on at once, almost blinding Serena. She can feel the heat radiating off them. She wonders how actors put up with them. She squints to see Gerald sitting across from her. He isn't squinting.

"Are the lights too bright?" Hela says from somewhere off to her right.

"No," she says. "I'm fine."

"Try and repeat the question back to me," Gerald says. "It helps our poor editors in the cutting room."

"What do you mean?"

"Like if I ask, 'Where were you born?' don't say '101 Main Street,' say 'I was born on 101 Main Street.' Like that."

Serena nods. "Got it. I'll try and remember all that."

"If it gets to be too much ..." Hela says. Serena waves her off.

"Oh, did you find Ginger? The little girl?"

Gerald looks off to the side, presumably at Anne, although Serena still can't see. He turns back to her with a winning smile. "We're still looking. We'll figure it out." He holds up a thumbs up to Manny who doesn't respond. "Manny? We good?"

Manny shakes off some cobwebs from his brain. "Uh, yep. Let's roll."

"Gotta be on top of things," Gerald says, snapping anxiously. "This isn't _Bedtime for Bonzo_!"

"Yep, you got it. Rolling."

"Can you hear me ok?" Gerald says to Serena.

"Can I hear you ok? Yes, I can."

Gerald laughs and takes a deep breath. "Then here we go."

Serena is surprised when Gerald turns the flash and personality on. He is suddenly the most interesting person in the room, probably the entire hospital. She can't help but watch him work in fascination and realizes why he's so good at his job. He stops talking and she realizes she needs to answer.

"Can I tell you a little about the disappearances? Yes, I sure can, Gerald."

She hears Manny laugh from somewhere behind the lights and realizes she needs to tone it down.

"Uh," she says, trying to gather her thoughts. "I've discovered that the vast majority of my fellow Bald Brigade ... ah, I mean, that is, my fellow cancer patients here in this hospital, we can see, or in some cases, feel, the disappearances occur."

"Can you describe what you see, or feel, as you say?" Gerald says, leaning in.

"Can I describe what I see ... well, it's fairly simple, at least to me. I know something is supposed to be there, but it isn't. I'll give you an example. There's a man who walks to work every day and moves his hand over a certain pole, like he's dancing or something. He does it in the morning, he does it after his lunch, and he does it when he's leaving for the evening."

"A fun ritual," Gerald says.

"That's right. But one day, the pole was gone. And this poor man ... he didn't walk up to it and wonder where it was like most people would normally do. He just ... kind of broke." Serena struggles at the memory. "I watched him stare at the space where the pole was supposed to be. He knew he was supposed to do something, that a part of his life was missing, but he couldn't remember what. Finally he just went inside. At lunch, the same thing happened. He came out, and just stood there for a while, and went back inside. I don't think he ever got lunch.

"For a more immediate example, there's a fountain across the street from the hospital. Or, there was, and now it's gone. I watched people hang out around the fountain all the time. But now they don't, and they don't care. Well, they don't know they need to care, I should say."

Serena pauses and clears her throat. She can see Hela start to say something but she waves her off. "I suppose the more important the object in your life, the harder it is to accept it's gone. The poor man with the pole ... it was like a friend that just stopped answering the phone one day."

"So, what is your theory then? How can you and this so-called Bald Brigade see this happening when we regular people cannot?"

The entire room cringes when Gerald says this. It takes him a second, but he realizes what he said. "Uh, I mean ..."

"Regular people," Serena says. Gerald grimaces. "Never mind. After talking with quite a few people here in the building, both cancerous and," she does finger-quotes, "'regular' people, it seems to me that the difference is time."

Across the hospital, Jay watches this unfold, albeit hours later, on his television. He shakes his head in disbelief. He isn't sure if it's crazier to hear what she's saying or to see Serena on TV.

"When Mister Sinch, one of the patients here, when his wife leaves, where does she go?" Serena says in the edited footage. "Feed the kids. Walk the dog. Make supper. Water the lawn. All sorts of stuff. What does Mister Sinch do? He sits. He waits. The seconds tick and tock by. Which one would notice if a water cup were to vanish into thin air?"

"Couldn't this all be a huge coincidence?" Gerald says. "Seeing things that aren't there?"

"I suppose the possibility exists that it's all a huge coincidence," Serena says. "But I think if you talk to the people in here and others in the same situation you'll see I'm right. We're all just sitting here watching time go by, flying away to the "edge of the Earth" as my sweet little friend Ginger says. Some of us sit and watch every single one escape and there's nothing we can do but watch."

The footage cuts to other patients, most of them as bald as Serena. "And talk we did," Gerald says in the voiceover. "We interviewed several other patients, including the Mister Sinch Serena referenced in her interview."

Jay turns the TV down as Mister Sinch starts to blather on about dump trucks. He shakes his head again and looks over at Edith to tell her what a load of garbage it all was. Instead, he sees a normally stoic, hard-nosed woman sitting with her hand over her mouth, looking horrified.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"If that's true ..."

"What?"

"If only dying people can see it ... Ryu, Jay. Ryu can see it."

"What?" Jay struggles to remember any time Ryu said anything remotely indicating he could see the phenomenon happening.

"He didn't want to tell you," she says, uncovering her mouth, "because you thought it was all so stupid. But he told me started noticing it a while ago. If what Serena says is true ... fuck. Fuck."

"Calm down," Jay says, himself squirming around in order to get out of bed. Another sharp wave hits him as he stands up, but he ignores it.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to see Serena. We can talk to her about all this shit there."

"What about her crazy mom?"

"Who cares?" Jay puts on some pants, knowing they have a bit of a journey ahead of them, and doing it in a hospital gown alone won't do it. "She might be gone. Or she'll be there and we'll yell at each other. Help me and we'll go see her. Or I'll do it myself."

"Alright, alright," Edith says. She helps Jay put on his pants.

Neither Jay or Edith see it, but on the TV the segment with Serena and the other members of the Bald Brigade is wrapping up. Billy Slapgas puts on his best frown as a picture of Ginger comes up on the screen, but it quickly fades and turns back into his trademark smile as the newscast jumps to a segment about a new doughnut shop opening downtown.

"And ... we're clear. Thanks everybody," Manny says, cutting the camera. "Looked great."

"It _was_ great," Gerald says, shaking Serena's hand. "Thanks again ... and sorry about, you know ..."

"It's not like I don't understand," Serena says, giving Gerald a steely look. "You want to shield yourself from what I have. It's a way to pretend it can't happen to you. To separate yourself from the disease, in a way. Having cancer is too hideous to think about so you sub-classify people that have it."

Manny stops taking down the camera, mouth agape. "I think I'm in love. Jerry, maybe you should buy her some flowers or something."

Serena blushes. "Everybody does it."

Gerald glares at Manny. "That's fine, laugh it up. A guy tries to apologize but gets it thrown right back in his face. I can take a hint."

He storms out of the room. Serena grins but then looks worried.

"I didn't mean to hurt his feelings," she says.

"Jerry?" Manny says, continuing to take down the equipment. "I made fun of his new haircut once and he swore we weren't friends anymore and he'd never forgive me. He lasted about half a day. He's like a puppy, he'll come running back in no time."

"That's good," Serena says. Feeling a little worn out, she gets out of the chair and walks over to lie down on her bed.

Anne walks up to her with a somber look on her face. She sits on the bed next to Serena.

"Now that the shoot is over ..." Anne says.

"Dead?"

"Coma. She had a stroke."

Serena goes pale. "Oh God. That's my fault. We ran around too much. She shouldn't have been out of bed so long."

"I'm really sorry, Serena."

"Speaking of which, after these people get out of here, you need to rest," Hela says. She forces her to lie down. "You don't want the same thing happening to you."

"No. I need to go see her." Serena sits back up. However, she immediately feels woozy.

"There's no point in killing yourself. You've been entirely too active today. It's been a whirlwind of activity here."

"But it's ..." Serena rubs her forehead as she feels woozier. "It's my fault."

"Serena Elizabeth Binn, you listen to me," Hela says, entering into full Mom mode. "It is not your fault that little girl is sick. You didn't put cancer into her or make her have a stroke. You talked to her when nobody else on this floor was and I'm sure she enjoyed that. She may come out of this or not, but if she does, then you're going to be healthy enough to see her when she does wake up. You got it?"

Serena tries not to look embarrassed after getting scolded by her mother in front of a bunch of total strangers. She wants to fight back, but she is woozy and tired. Plus, deep down she knows she's right.

"Fine." Serena lies back. Hela tucks her in as Anne helps Manny pack everything up as quickly as possible so they can get out of the room.

Gerald walks back in, a sheepish look on his face. He carries a small vase of flowers adorned with bees that has a "Bee Well Soon" balloon inside. "I didn't mean to storm out like that. A little dramatic, huh?" He flashes his best smile.

Serena looks over at Manny, who shrugs.

"Like a little puppy," Serena says as she closes her eyes.

Jay hears a noise from down the hall and sees one of the nurses walk out of a room. While he's dressed in street clothes, he's still obviously a patient here with the giant bandage on his side and the hospital slippers on his feet so he backs up to hide behind the nearest wall. He cringes as the sudden movement tweaks his side, then cringes again as Edith runs into him.

"Hey, what the—" she says. Jay puts up his hand to quiet her. The nurse goes into another room. He relaxes and they continue the walk to the cancer ward.

"I feel like we're on a spy mission," Edith says. "What are you going to say to her when we get there?"

"I'll figure it out when I get there," Jay says, holding his side.

They reach the elevator and Jay presses the up button. Much to their delight, the elevator is empty, and they continue their journey up to the sixth floor.

Unseen by them, in a nearby patient's room, Serena's face appears on the news again, this time with a phone number below it. The patient has no idea what this is about or what the number is for as they are asleep. However, if they were awake, there's a good chance they would have called it.

## Chapter 15

It's an ocean of noise and a flurry of movement and activity at the offices of WATL. The phones ring non-stop and everyone, including Reed, tries to keep up with the high volume of contact.

"WATL," Reed says, answering another phone call. "Yeah. Yes. Yep. No, she's not here. In her hospital bed I imagine! Why would she be here in the station?"

Timmy the Intern hangs up one call and picks up another one. "WATL. No, I don't have her email address. What? What do you need that for? I see. Uh-huh. I can take down your name if you'd like ..."

Reed slams his phone down and it immediately rings again. "Shits and biscuits! This is a goddamn mess!"

Timmy turns to Reed. "This guy here wants some air-time too. He has an alternate theory that we're all in Hell."

"Great. Take his number and cram it up your ass!" Shocked, Timmy turns to figure out what to say to the guy.

Reed grabs a chompin' cigar and walks out into the main room. He watches the madness ensue with practically everybody in the station answering phones instead of doing their real jobs. Time to make a decision.

"Listen up everyone!" he says, chomping down on the cigar. "Anybody wanting to talk to Serena Binn needs to be directed to a website we're going to make!"

"What's the website?" somebody shouts. Reed can't see who it is.

"We haven't made it yet! How the hell would I know?"

"Who's going to make it?" Timmy says.

"Good question, and the answer to that question is you are!" He grabs Timmy's shoulder. "Thanks for volunteering."

"But I don't know how—"

"Just tell these people we'll push out an update. They can talk to her live. Live!"

Anne walks into her house, stretching her sore neck as she shuts the door. Although she doesn't notice it, the air in the house is completely different, and each room feels much more spacious than before. All she can think of right now, though, is seeing Telly.

"I'm home!" she says. From the back of the house she hears a snort and the sounds of Telly waking up, soft coos and the shuffle of a diaper.

"Mrrph ... ok!" a female voice says.

Anne plops down on the couch and waits for her baby to come and sit in her lap. The day has been rough and seeing all those poor patients in the cancer ward took a huge toll on her. Just thinking about it makes her even more tired. So much impending doom in one place—she isn't sure how the nurses do it every day.

Anne's sister Layla, almost as tall and lanky as Anne is, walks up from the back of the house, carrying a sleepy-faced Telly. "We were taking a nappy nap. Weren't we?" She bounces Telly up and down who just looks around in that "I just woke up, what more do you want?" kind of way.

Anne holds her hands out and wiggles her fingers. "Gimme gimme!"

Layla hands Telly over and Anne gives him a huge hug and kiss. "Mommy missed you so much today." Telly seems appreciative and coos some more. "Thanks for staying with him today. It was ... a long day."

"Extra rough?"

"Kind of. Around cancer patients all day. Puts things into perspective, at least."

"Well, I didn't mind." Layla twiddles Telly's ear. "I've been meaning to get in some extra Auntie time with this little guy!"

"Well, I know it was a big ask," Anne says, finally able to relax a little. "I guess I need to hire a nanny. I can't take away from your school time."

Layla sits down on the couch next to her. "I've been meaning to ask about that. What did you do before today?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who watched Telly all day before today?"

Anne's brain does flips. It makes her more tired than ever to try and think about this. Her immediate reaction is to lash out at Layla just for asking such a stupid question. Of course people watched Telly, she wouldn't just leave him alone. But why is she asking this? Why does it matter?

Her head hurts. She can't remember anything before today, Telly or otherwise.

"Different people," she says.

"You obviously didn't leave him here by himself," Layla says, laughing, but almost in an accusatory way.

Anne pushes down reactionary anger. "Of course not."

Layla shrugs and walks over to the kitchen table. It's covered in school books and notebooks. "Oh well. It doesn't matter I guess. Just curious. You seem so super busy. He's such a good kiddo I was able to get most of my homework done."

Anne's phone rings. "Did you eat supper yet?"

"Yeah, after I fed the monster."

Anne checks the phone. It's Manny. "Hey, Manny, I just got home."

Layla makes a face and holds up her arms, flexing, mimicking Manny's big muscles. Anne rolls her eyes and looks away.

"Oh, sorry to bother you," Manny says. Anne can tell something is bothering him.

"No bother. I've got Telly, so all is right with the world."

"'Bout time a guy called you," Layla says. Anne waves at her to shut up.

"Can you ... can you meet somewhere? Are you busy?"

"Well, Telly has to go to bed in a little while," she says. Telly bounces around on her lap and starts grabbing at the air like he usually does. "Why don't you come over here?"

She sees Layla make a big, goofy, fake-shocked face and tries to ignore her. Layla was such an immature brat sometimes.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Everything ok?"

"I'm not sure, honestly. I have to get out of my apartment though. I'll explain over there. Be there soon ..." Manny just trails off. Anne waits for him to say something else but the phone cuts out.

Layla whistles. "Will you shut up?" Anne says.

"Why can't I be happy my sister is meeting up with Mister Hunk'o'Muscles? What a hunk." Layla starts packing all her stuff up, shoving notebooks and papers haphazardly into her bookbag. "I'll get out of your hair. Unless you want me to watch Telly some more ..." She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Anne points to the door. "I got it."

"Fine. But I'm telling Dad you're living in sin."

"I'm pretty sure he already thinks that. Manny is just a friend from the station. We work on a lot of assignments together."

"Sure. Just a friend. And I'm going to go home and study more and not go out drinking. Let's just all lie, right in front of Telly. What kind of morals are we teaching here?" Layla bends down and kisses Telly's head. "Good night, monster." She kisses Anne on the cheek. "LYL."

"LYL. Thanks again for helping me today."

"No probs." Layla leaves, giving one last wave to Telly as she goes.

Serena's eyes pop open. She must've fallen asleep after everyone left. No, before—she remembers her mother scolding her then ... not much else.

She looks around and there's no sign of Hela, nor of anybody else. She gingerly gets out of bed, making sure she isn't still woozy. The nap seems to have done the trick.

She eases the door open to look out into the hall. Nurse Marilyn is at the nurses station but leaves after a few minutes. Serena heads down the hall towards the children's ward to find Ginger.

Inside Ginger's room, sitting next to her tiny, frail body, is a giant of a man. He's hunched over but it somehow makes him look twice as large, like a human boulder. He isn't doing much but sitting there staring at the floor, one tiny light illuminating the area around him.

He feels Serena's eyes on him. In certain situations this man would be terrifying, but his face glows when he sees Serena. "Come on in," he says.

Serena carefully closes the door behind her. "I'm Serena."

"Lamar," the man says, standing up to greet her. This guy would not be out of place in a meeting of ancient Viking warriors, huge beard and all. "Ginger told me all about you." He points to a nearby chair. "Have a seat."

Serena moves the chair closer to Ginger's bed and gently takes her hand. "Has she improved any?"

"Just a twitch here and there. Sometimes her eyes flutter and I get hopeful but ..." he trails off.

Serena doesn't know what to say. She just sits there, holding Ginger's hand, wishing she could trade places with her.

"Ginger is one special little girl," Lamar says. "Even with her bones filled with cancer and disabled with cerebral palsy she still gets around more than I did when I was her age. I always joked about tying her to the bed when I finally found her every day."

He frowns. "I wish I hadn't made those jokes."

"She told me you called her a movie star."

Lamar blushes, which is a bizarre sight. "I guess I don't know that much about girls. Three brothers and a hard-ass dad myself. But I always wanted her to feel pretty no matter what happened, or happens."

"Sounds like you know enough," Serena says. "Does Ginger's mom get to come up too?"

"The first week. After that she suddenly had more to do at the office every day."

Serena nods. She gets it. She heard a lot of the same excuses from her friends until they all basically disappeared.

"We all handle it differently," Lamar says. "I'm just glad everyone here is so nice to her."

Serena smiles. "It's really tough not to be! Did you know I woke up one morning after I had a seizure and Ginger was holding my hand, telling me she didn't want me to fly away. That must've been after she escaped you again."

"Definitely a special little girl." Lamar takes Ginger's other tiny hand. She doesn't wake up.

They sit like that for a second, Lamar clearly struggling with something. Finally: "Ginger says she can see the world disappearing like everyone says. She told me you can too."

"Do you believe she can?"

"I believe everything she says. Probably not the healthiest thing for a parent but I can't help it. I mean look at her."

Serena wipes away a tear and smiles. "True."

"I guess everyone is worried about it. Everyone out there anyway."

"You're not?"

Lamar takes a deep breath and rubs his beard. "Way I see it ... life is already a razor-thin wire waiting to be cut at any moment. I don't see how that would change anything. So what's the use in worrying about it?"

Again, Serena can't think of anything to say. They sit and hold Ginger's hands, both wishing she would open her little eyes and go running off on a little adventure. In a fairer world that would happen. Instead, Ginger lies there, having no idea of the love pouring her way.

Gerald rips the drawer next to the refrigerator open, the "random junk" drawer with various flotsam and jetsam inside, and everything jingles and jangles loudly. He knows it's probably going to wake his mother but he doesn't care. He rummages through the mess but doesn't find what he's looking for.

Another drawer and more noise. He finds the old screwdriver he was missing a few weeks ago but not his ultimate prize. He decides the dishwasher might have it but it's completely empty. He stands in the middle of the kitchen with his hands on his hips as he looks around in irritation.

The light flips on and sure enough there stands his mother, staring at him quizzically. "What on Earth are you doing in here?"

"I can't find the bottle opener."

"Bottle opener? For what?" Miss Trimmings walks over to the fridge and pries a magnetic bottle opener off the side of the fridge and hands it to him. "Here you go, Pidgit."

Gerald _hmphs_ and opens the fridge. "Now ..."

"Now what? I don't think there are any sodas to open in there." She leans in to help him look. Mostly just condiment bottles and yogurt.

"We really need to go to the store," Gerald says. "I'm looking for a beer."

Miss Trimmings stands up straight and crosses her arms. "Young man, you know there is no beer in this house. Besides, you've never had one before."

"That isn't true and you know it. Just the other week we did the piece in Smith's Olde Bar and they gave me not one but _two_ drinks. Two!" Gerald dramatically slams the fridge door closed. One of the condiment bottles inside falls over. His mother stares at him until he fixes it.

"Look, I'm sorry I woke you," Gerald says, rubbing his temple.

"Making enough noise to wake the dead." She reattaches the bottle opener and yawns. "A girl needs her beauty sleep, you know."

"I said I was sorry, Mother!" Gerald slumps down at the kitchen table, still wishing he had some beer.

"Alright, alright, no need to get your butt in a bunch." She joins him at the table and pats his hand. "What is the matter with you this evening? Did something happen at work? Get into a fight with one of your friends?"

"I don't have any friends," Gerald says.

"Pidgit, I keep telling you that isn't true—"

"Can you see it?" Gerald stares at his mother, daring her to lie to him. He can see her face working, trying to figure out what to say, but she finally relents.

"Yes," she says quietly. "Yes, I can, and I don't need any lip from you—"

"Jesus, Mother!" Gerald says, standing up and throwing his chair back.

"Now you stop that language right now."

Gerald paces, feeling like he can't fathom how to stand still right now. "When? When did it start?"

"Oh, I don't know, a few days ago," she says. "You know the Thorntons' house down the road? Their driveway is gone. They don't seem to have any problem just parking on the grass, just like it was normal or something. Nobody else seems to care."

"Why didn't you think to tell me?" More pacing. His legs feel like they're on fire.

"You've been so busy lately. Plus, what would it change? What would it matter?"

Miss Trimmings pats the table so Gerald sits down. He can't sit still so he bounces his leg furiously.

"When your father was killed in that wreck, I thought my world was over. Luckily, you were there, so I didn't have time to give up. I just kept going. I couldn't be selfish and wallow, as much as I wanted to. Oh, I was so sad, for so long, and I still am in some ways."

"But the story tonight—" Gerald begins, but Miss Trimmings stop him with a finger over his lips.

"Don't interrupt," she says. "I suppose I may have sheltered you, but I've always been glad for our time together, even when you've been a pain. Even if what that young lady said tonight is true, it doesn't change a thing. One day I'll die and that will be that. Whether I can see some craziness like the world vanishing before my eyes in the meantime ..." She trails off and shrugs.

"How can you say that?"

"I'm more worried about you. I mean, I'll die, but you'll still be around, and if the world is going away, you'll go away with it. So instead of worrying about me, why don't you concentrate on the actual mystery? There's your story." She stands up and stretches. "I know you've been scared of navigating the world without me, but you've been doing just fine so far. You just haven't noticed."

She walks over to the stove and fires up one of the burners. "Well, I'm up now. Do you want a grilled cheese?"

Gerald stews a bit, knowing, or at least feeling, she's right but refusing to admit it. However, turning down one of her amazing grilled cheese sandwiches for a moral victory was downright stupid. "Yes."

Miss Trimmings was already in the process of making one anyway, but she nods. "Ok then."

Gerald sits at the table with his chin in his hand, staring off into space. He thinks of Anne and Manny. He knows the way they look at him, how they feel about him. Everyone else in the station, too, including Reed, but especially the two he trusts enough to take on every shoot.

His mother feels his silence. "You ok?"

"I mean it when I say I don't have any friends," Gerald says. "Nobody respects me at the station."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Oh, it is. They think I'm a jerk, an egomaniac." Already he can smell the grilled cheese cooking and his stomach growls heavily. She always salts the butter a little before putting it on the grill. So good. "Probably because I am."

"Now why would you say that about yourself?" She speaks up to be heard over the sizzle of the sandwich.

"Well ..." Gerald says. "I guess because I act like one. I'm not sure why. I don't really want to, but it comes with the territory. I like the people I work with. But I act stuck-up because you're almost required to so you appear more important than ... well, than you really are."

"Huh," his mother says, flipping the sandwich over. "That's easy enough to fix. Just stop."

Gerald laughs and looks at her, one eyebrow raised. "Oh, just stop? That's your advice?"

"Yep." She shrugs. "Pretty easy, huh?"

"Very Socrates." He scoots the chair up as the grilled cheese finishes cooking. He couldn't do that, could he? Just stop being a jerk? Just change like that? Do people do that?

"Still like jelly on top?"

"There isn't any other way to eat a grilled cheese, is there?"

As he tears into the sandwich, Gerald thinks about what his mother said. More than anything he imagines it would be fun to try and see everyone's reactions. He supposes being a better person for his own amusement is better than the alternative.

"Just stop," he says, shoving the rest of the jelly-topped grilled cheese delight into his mouth.

The elevator dings and Jay and Edith cautiously walk out. Jay sees the coast is clear to Serena's room. He waves Edith to follow him.

He peeks in, expecting to find who knows what. Instead, he finds an empty room. He checks the room number again.

"I'm pretty sure this was the right room," he says.

"Where is she?" Edith says, getting worried.

"I don't know, obviously, or we wouldn't be here."

"Ok, ok," Edith says, looking around nervously. "Starting to feel like a sore thumb here."

"We're ok," Jay says, "as long as ..."

Sure enough, Hela walks up, as if conjured out of thin air. Jay groans and looks at the ceiling, wondering if he can just jump through the roof.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Hela says. "Didn't get enough last time, I take it?" Her eyes widen and she runs into Serena's room. "Serena, I ... where is she?"

"I don't know," Jay says. "I just got here."

"Dressed up like a patient, are you serious? Will you stoop to no lows?"

"He was stabbed," Edith says. "In the side."

"Who the hell are you?" Hela shakes her head and points to the exit. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. Just get out of here, now, before she gets back. How dare you."

"No," Jay says. "I need to see Serena. I'm not moving until I do."

"You will when I call security to come drag your sorry ass out of here."

"Hey, we have as much right to be here as you do," Edith says, getting annoyed.

Hela's fury switches from Jay to Edith. Edith can almost feel the heat radiating out of her eyes. "Actually, you druggie bitch, only family members are allowed here after a certain hour, and since this idiot dumped my cancer-ridden daughter to the wayside like a bag of garbage, that privilege has been revoked from him. So you two need to get out of here now."

"Save the fake vitriol," Jay says. "I know you lied to me."

"What are you talking about now?"

"I just saw that interview with Serena. She was talking like nothing's wrong with her brain, when just the other day you told me she'd gone off the damn deep end, never to return. I'm going to wait here and talk to her myself whether you like it or not. Go ahead and call security if you want."

Hela shoves past Jay. She inadvertently hits his wounded side and he cringes. "You got it, buster. Just wait here so the police—"

She stops in her tracks as Serena stands there, her arms crossed. "Is that true?"

"Serena? Where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick!"

"Is Jay telling the truth? Was he here before?"

Hela stammers, trying to think of what to say. She tries for the truth. "Yes. But, you were very sick, and you had just had your seizure. You were in no—"

"Why didn't you tell me later?" Serena says. She keeps her voice low and steady, knowing a full-blown fight in the middle of this hallway was a real possibility. But she's not angry, she's just hurt.

Hela points to her temple. "Think, child! In your state I couldn't have anything bothering or upsetting you. With this worthless cokehead coming back—"

"Whoa, what the fuck?" Jay says.

Serena puts a hand up. "Jay." To Hela: "Please leave."

Hela can't believe what she's hearing. All the work she's done, everything she's sacrificed to help her daughter, and now she's choosing her garbage ex-husband over her. "You cannot be serious."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Go home and rest."

Hela's mouth moves, scrunching up and drying up with anger. "You ungrateful—"

"Stop before you say something you'll regret if I die before you get back," Serena says.

Hela's eyes twitch. Her entire body tense, she storms over to the elevators, suppressing the need to get the last word in with every fiber in her being.

After Hela is gone, Serena walks over to Jay and Edith. "Where's Ryu?"

"Home. He's actually why we're here."

"Why are you in a hospital gown?"

"He was stabbed," Edith says.

"Where?"

Jay pats his side. "Shanked, actually."

"Oof. Does it hurt?" Serena says, gently touching the bandage. "Is it deep?"

"Eh. I'll live."

"That's good," Serena says, pulling her arm back and punching Jay directly on the bandage. He hits the ground like a sack of potatoes, his entire body protesting in pain.

"What ... the ... hell ..." Jay says through gritted teeth.

Serena walks into her room. "A few more of those and we'll be even, you fucking douchebag. Come on in." She gestures to Edith to take a seat. Jay takes a minute to collect himself before crawling inside and joining them.

"Now," Serena says, sitting cross-legged on her bed, "why did I just kick out the one person who's cared for me since you abandoned me?"

"Christ, Serena," Jay says, getting his breath back. "Take it easy. For a second. Saw your. Interview. Earlier."

"And?"

"Is it true?"

"Yes, obviously," Serena says, laughing. "When do you remember me just making up bullshit? That was all you, buddy."

"And it's only with dying people?"

Serena shrugs. "Seems that way ... wait." Suddenly she realizes why they're here.

"Ryu can see it. Apparently for a while." He gestures at Edith who nods somberly.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry."

Jay uses the wall to gingerly stand up, his side still burning. "Yeah. I just had to make sure." He takes a deep breath, trying to will the pain to stop. "Do you think they're causing it? The world to disappear?"

"I mean I'm not," she says, tapping her cheek. "So I don't think so. But I'm not exactly an expert. All I can do is watch. It's pointless when you think about it."

"So, as usual, it doesn't matter, right?"

Serena's face hardens back up.

"Don't be an asshole," Edith says. "That's not what she said."

Jay throws his hands out, as in "what the hell?" Serena nods in agreement.

"So what are you going to do, then?" he says, already knowing the answer, her usual shtick.

"Well, I'm very tired, so I'm going to go to sleep," Serena says, lying down. "Then I'll see what tomorrow brings, including mending fences with my mother. That's about all I've got for now."

_Typical_. Jay shakes his head and starts to leave. "Great. Let's go, Edith." Edith hops up.

"Why did you come here before?" Serena says. Jay stops. "It wasn't about this whole ... disappearing whatever, right?"

Jay cracks his neck and considers what to say. She's right, of course; none of this matters. But what is the use of lying around and just waiting for come what may?

"Sometimes I wonder if I didn't cut my brake line when I left you."

Serena has heard crap like this the entire time she's known him. He's such a broody, bratty moron, but she can't help but feel a twinge of familiarity and the vague ghost of love for him. It used to be a full-blown monster love, but now it's just a spirit, reminding her why they made such a terrible couple.

"Jay," is all she can say.

Jay walks out of the room and towards the elevator, not looking back. Edith waves and Serena waves back, forcing a smile. She can't remember if she had met that woman or not, one of Jay's many druggie friends. But like she always says, it doesn't really matter or change anything anyway.

Edith leaves and Serena is finally alone so she can go to sleep. She replays Jay's last words in her head.

"We all handle it differently," she says to herself as she drifts away.

## Chapter 16

Manny has never been a fan of babies. He's not anti-baby or anything, he's just at most ambivalent towards them. It freaks him out that they're almost-humans, with enough mental capacity to look at you and recognize faces and squeeze their little hands but can't walk or talk or drive a car. It's like they should incubate more before coming out into the world.

He supposes Telly isn't the worst baby in the world. He doesn't look any different than any other baby, as 99% of babies look identical to him. Even regardless of skin color, and that's not an "I don't see race" thing for him—he legitimately just thinks all babies look the same. But as far as babies go, Telly is a relatively inoffensive one.

He watches Telly wiggle around and ball his little fists in the air. It's like he's trying to grab onto something and float away, as if there are invisible balloons around him and if he just snatches the right one, off he goes. It looks like fun, anyway.

Manny switches his gaze over to Anne. She's cleaning up some spilled milk on the table. She breathes out heavily and he watches her neck muscles move. Her eyes have a glazed-over look to them, like she hasn't slept in weeks.

"I can see how this would be tough to describe to someone," he says as Telly continues his air-grab routine.

"Yeah! It's the strangest thing," Anne says. She finishes mopping up the spilled milk and tosses the rag on the counter.

Telly gets a little too excited and accidentally bops Manny on the nose. Manny makes an exaggerated  hurt face which makes Telly laugh hysterically.

"Oh, you like that, huh? That's funny to you?" He stands up with Telly and swings him around like an airplane. "I'll show you funny!" He makes airplane noises while he swings him.

"Yeah, so if you like baby barf on your clothes you should definitely keep doing that. He just ate."

"Oh shit, I mean, oh darn," Manny say, sitting back down. "I guess I don't know that much about babies."

Telly laughs again but then breaks out into a huge yawn. Manny thinks he looks like a baby bird or some other wild animal.

"Looks like it's almost time for him to go back down for nighty-nights anyway." Anne scoops Telly up who lays his head against her chest. She gently takes one of his hands and waves it. "Say goodnight to Mister Manny!"

Manny waves back. "Night, little man."

"I'll be right back."

Anne takes Telly to the back to put him down for the night. He hears Telly coo and make other baby sounds but no screaming, which is nice. Don't babies generally scream when they go to bed? He doesn't know.

He looks around at the kitchen. It's definitely not the kitchen he assumed Anne would have as it's very domestic. The wallpaper has little pigs and chickens and clouds all over it, something an elderly grandma would have instead of a twenty-something single mom. Maybe she got it for Telly. Do babies like wallpaper? He doubts it.

In the back he hears Anne sing a little song to Telly, presumably to help him go to sleep. His soft cooing gets softer and more ... cooey? Eventually she stops, and he hears her walking back over to the kitchen.

"He might cry a little, so be prepared for that," she says as she walks back into the kitchen. "Want a beer or anything?"

"Sure. I'm amazed he hasn't cried yet. Don't babies cry a lot?"

"They are kind of known for that, yes." She hands him a beer.

"Are you having one?"

"No, I don't really drink beer," she says as she picks up a wine bottle.

"Oh. Ok." He takes a sip. It's a rather hoppy, piney beer. He raises the can. "Thanks. So, you have no idea what the grabbing thing he does is all about?"

"Not a clue." Anne pours a healthy glass of wine for herself. "At first it was just a few minutes a day but now it's practically all the time. Very strange. He's seeing something, something I'm just not seeing."

"You're not the only one."

"Glad to know I'm not weird." Manny shoots her a look and grins. "Yeah, yeah, not too weird anyway," she says.

"You know, I always figured your place would be more ... artsy."

"Why is that? You don't like my animal farm wallpaper here?" She presents it like she's on a game show.

"No, it's great! But you know, you're Miss Fancy Producer and all good with makeup and whatever."

"Mmmm," she says, taking a big swig, "you're right. I should put up some band posters, maybe sling some random doll parts around the living room and have a corner of my bedroom dedicated to French New Wave." She nods to herself. "Yep."

"That's awfully specific."

"Dorm room, sophomore year." She refreshes her wine and sits down with Manny at the kitchen table. "So why the late-night call?"

"Well ..." Honestly, Manny was hoping they could just keep hanging out. He didn't really want to get into what was bothering him. It was nice just being out of the apartment. But he says: "I wanted to see if you were ok. You seemed a little out of it earlier. A little ..."

"Disheveled?" she says, taking another big swig of wine.

"Sure, that sounds about right."

"Am I not allowed to have bad days?" She downs the rest of her wine.

Manny puts his hands up in a surrender pose. "Whoa, whoa, that's not what I meant."

Anne sighs sharply and walks back over to the counter to get more to drink. "To be honest ... I don't know what the hell is wrong. I had to call my sister to watch Telly today because I didn't know what to do with him."

"What do you mean? What to do with him?"

"Who to watch him, where to take him!" she says a little too loudly. Telly does now start to cry and Anne tenses up. He quickly quiets, though, and she relaxes. "I wake up today and realized I had absolutely no idea what to do with him. How long have I been his mom? What the fuck have I done with him every day?"

Manny nods. Guess it was time to get down to it. No more hanging out. "I think we're on the same page."

He pulls out the picture of himself and the mystery girl dressed up in Renaissance clothes, scratched up from the frame glass shattering during its plummet out of his apartment window. Even looking it at now makes his head hurt. His eyes naturally move away from the picture as if his body is physically rejecting it.

"I think this woman and I dated." He hands the picture over to Anne.

"What? What do you mean? Dated?" She squints at the picture. "Also, what the hell are you wearing?"

"It's the Renaissance Festival. You pretend to be Ye Olde Squires and ... you know what, it would take too long to explain," he says. "And I mean dated, like went out. Socially."

"Why don't you remember her, smart-ass?"

"I don't know ..." he says. The implications of this were crystal clear to him, but apparently not to Anne. "I think this disappearing shit is affecting people now. She might have vanished."

Anne tosses the picture back over to him, her face full of disbelief. "Then why is she in the picture?"

Manny reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a necklace. It has a shining green emerald in the shape of a clover leaf. He taps the picture.

"See? Same necklace. Same emerald and everything." He lays the necklace next to the picture for comparison. It's undoubtedly the same one, or at least a great copy. "So she vanished but the necklace stayed around for some reason. I haven't figured this part out."

Anne shakes her head. Manny is clearly upset about this, but it seemed like nothing. Sure, she kind of believed poor Ethel, but this? He seemed like he was grasping at straws.

"I guess she was Irish," she says, trying to shut down the conversation.

"I found it in my sock drawer, tucked away way in the back," he says, drinking the rest of his beer. "Like I didn't want to see it anymore or something. This could've happened a few days ago, or a few months ago, or a few years ago ... hell, it could've happened yesterday, and I have no way of knowing. Do you think one of those people today could tell me what this means, Anne?"

It hurts Anne inside to ignore his pain. She watches him swirl the last few drops of his beer around absentmindedly, his eyes darting from the necklace, to the photograph, to look into her eyes.

"Why do you care?" she says. "If you can't remember, why dig it up? Why not just let it go if it doesn't change anything?"

"Wouldn't it nag you to death if you had some past like this you can't even remember?" he says, incredulous at her indifference. Finally, it hits him. "What was that about not knowing what to do with Telly?"

Anne's face hardens instantly. "It's not the same goddamn thing, Manny. I've just been stressed. Don't go there."

"But what if somebody disappeared? We could find out ... I'll go with you." He touches her hand but she recoils.

"Don't do that. Don't touch me. Nobody is disappearing." She stands up and puts her glass in the sink. "I don't want to fucking talk about this."

"I don't mean to upset—"

"Is this why you came over? I have shit to do, dude. I'm exhausted and I have a baby. Are you trying to disrupt my life by jamming this garbage in my face?"

Manny stands up and puts his hands up again, trying to defuse the situation. "Whoa, whoa ... you're right, I'll—"

She juts a finger in his face. "To answer your question, nothing is the matter. Now that you know that, please leave."

"Anne—"

"Now, Manny!" she says, visibly shaking. She turns and faces the sink, willing Manny to get out of here before she fully erupts. She doesn't know why she's acting like this but can't help it.

Manny doesn't say anything, just grabs the photo and the necklace. He knows better than to push the issue. He does manage to mumble a quick "sorry" before heading out the door.

The noise has woken up Telly, who starts crying. Anne allows herself a second to cry before going to grab him and comfort him.

One of the funny things about living in Atlanta is how contradictory neighborhoods can exist right next to each other. On one street you have something straight out of the suburbs; on the next street, high-rise buildings and businesses; then the next street over is a run-down ghetto. It's just how it is in the city, like aliens playing a world-building game and not caring about uniformity at all.

Ryu lives in one of these little funny suburb-looking houses which is next to some industrial buildings, probably formerly factories, and a block full of indie mom & pop shops.

Jay and Edith walk up to his front stoop and bang on the screen door. It bounces back and forth, still clearly broken from a time when Jay threw Ryu into the door when they were both high as shit. He swings open the screen door and bangs on the wooden one.

No answer. He bangs again. "Open up!"

A wave of pain hits Jay so he steps back. Edith steps up to take over, banging hard. "Ryu, it's us, open up!"

They wait a second, still no answer. Edith tries the doorknob and it moves so she opens the door. "Ryu?"

She hears some noise from the back of the house and waves Jay to follow her inside. Ryu's house is normally tidy and he never has anybody over to mess this up. However, today, it's in shambles. There's more noise from the back so she and Jay walk back to find Ryu.

"Ryu? What are you doing?"

"Nothing! Go away!" Ryu shouts from his bedroom. They head that way and find him frantically shoving various pieces of clothing into a suitcase.

"Going on a trip?" Edith says as she surveys the scene. Ryu has torn his normally super neat bedroom to shreds.

"Don't worry about it," Ryu says, shoving more clothes into the suitcase. They don't fit so he shoves as hard as he can. "Hey, Jay. Glad to see you're still not dead."

"Edith told me," Jay says.

Ryu stops shoving and stands there, trying to figure out what to say. He balls his fists up and releases them. Finally, he says: "Doesn't matter." He goes back to shoving his clothes into the suitcase.

Edith carefully walks over to him, trying to avoid all the mess on the floor, and touches his shoulder. He shies away from her touch.

"Can you just stop for a damn second?" Jay says.

Ryu does stop, mainly because the zipper won't zip on the suitcase. He takes a deep breath. When he turns around, his eyes are puffy and red.

"I'm going to see my folks in Austin," he says. "I'm catching a flight tonight. I don't know how much time we all have left. How much time I have left. This shit is driving me crazy, you guys. And now I think I'm dying thanks to your ex-wife, Jay."

"I don't think you can really blame her," Jay says. Edith shoots him a look but he ignores it. "Why didn't you just say something to me?"

"It's a lot of work being the chipper one in the group." Ryu finally gives up on the stupid suitcase and sits down on the bed. "Nobody ever asks me how I'm doing. You get to sit there and brood all the time. Edith is Miss Sarcastic Wit. I'm just the joyous one, always good for a laugh. Well, fuck you guys."

He goes back to work on the suitcase, flinging a few items out so it will finally close. "I can't handle this shit," he continues. "I can see the world ending and I can't find anything else to laugh about. Not anymore."

"There has to be something we can do, isn't there?"

"Yeah," Ryu says. "I'm doing it. Isn't that your philosophy? Do do do, go go go, as fast as possible? Well I'm go go going to get the fuck out of here and make some amends before it's too late, for me and for everyone else. I would try and do the same for Serena."

He walks over to the window and opens a curtain. "All those shops there. You see that shoe store? There was a giant high-rise building right behind it. Saw a raging orgy in some random office a few floors up one time. It's gone now. The orgy participants, too, probably. This shit is speeding up, and fast." He turns around to look at them. "Do you remember me having roommates?"

Edith and Jay shake their heads. Ryu laughs. "Jesus. You people are truly dense."

"I already saw Serena," Jay says. "We just came from there."

Ryu zips up the suitcase and looks at Jay, shocked. "Wow. That's good. So what the fuck are you doing here with me?"

Jay has no answer and doesn't try. Ryu smiles and grabs the suitcase as he walks out of the room. Edith follows him.

"Are you going to be ok?" she says.

Ryu grabs a knick-knack off a nearby shelf, some carved wooden thing with a frog on it, and stuffs it into his suitcase. This seems to satisfy him. "I don't know. I don't know if any of us are. I gotta go. Flight."

Ryu opens the door, throwing up a hand in farewell.

"Hey."

Ryu turns to look at Jay who stands at the end of the hallway. "Don't die, ok?"

Ryu studies Jay's face for a second. They've known each other for such a long time. For a split second he sees the adolescent Jay he met in middle school, the one who called his Garfield board game idea "fucking dope, dude."

"Go back to Serena, dipshit," Ryu says, shutting the door behind him.

The three best friends are back, and that makes Serena smile like she hasn't in some time. It's nice to know some things haven't changed yet. That might change soon of course, but for now— that's all you can ask—is "but for now."

She looks around at the rest of her view and her mood changes. The fountain that disappeared weeks ago is now joined by the bank behind it. Parts of the street have vanished, surrounded by cones and other construction equipment hurriedly placed so cars don't fall into an abyss.

One building down the street is cleaved almost perfectly in half, like they just gave up building the thing halfway. She wonders what the people who work in that building think about that, the stories they've made up to justify their strange workplace.

She points around the area, isolating bits of the city she sees have vanished.

"Going. Going. Gone. Gone. Going. Gone. Going."

"Is there a baseball game out there?"

She turns and sees a tall, older man, who looks like he just finished clubbing at Studio 54. He's holding a laptop and a briefcase while chewing on a cigar. Behind him is a scrawny little teenager.

"I'm Reed Hastings with WATL," the man says, walking over to her and jutting out his hand. "We spoke on the phone. Good to meet you in person."

"Oh, hello," Serena says, her face showing her confusion. "I don't think you can have ..." She taps her mouth, indicating his cigar.

"Eh." Reed puts the laptop down and opens it up. Timmy the Intern starts working immediately. "Just a chompin' cigar. No smoking. This is Timmy, an intern with WATL. He'll be assisting you today."

"With ... what? What is going on?" Serena smiles, completely lost.

"Oh!" Reed smacks his forehead and some of his cigar floats down to the floor. "I guess I forgot to tell you. Your story was huge."

Timmy brings up the website they created for her. It's a simple forum and chatroom. Serena sees her face up at the top with a banner that says, "Talk to Serena Binn!" She looks at Reed quizzically.

"We haven't published it yet, of course," he says. "Not until we came to talk to you."

Reed pops open the briefcase. Inside is a large folder full of paper. He hands some over to Serena.

"This is a list of all the phone calls we got last night after we ran your story," he says. "There were over two thousand calls with in the first hour. Several thousand more keep trickling in as the story reaches out past our city. It's gone nationwide now, so you can imagine what that's been like."

Serena thumbs through the papers. One person lost their prize parakeets. Another said their house completely vanished one day and they woke up with everything perfectly assembled for a house, just outside now. So many stories of loss, anguish, and confusion, echoing her own tale, just wanting to be heard.

"You're probably going to be world famous soon, is what I'm trying to say," Reed says.

"Oh. Shit."

"Yeah, that'd be my reaction too." He squeezes Timmy's shoulder. "Timmy here made you a website. It ain't pretty but it works."

"Boss," Timmy says, "you didn't say you wanted pretty—"

"But it works! We're sending everyone to this site instead of these damn phone calls. You can either use the chat thingy or the ... whatchacallit ..."

"You can either talk to them via chat or a traditional web forum," Timmy says. Serena nods in understanding. "Your choice. You could use both I guess."

"I don't know what to say," Serena says.

"You could say no." Reed takes out a fresh cigar and chomps on it, stuffing the old one into his coat pocket. "It's entirely up to you. We'll keep the site going, but if you don't feel up to it, at any point, don't feel obligated to keep going. You don't owe anybody anything."

"I can cancel at any time, operators are standing by?"

"Ha! Exactly!" He pats Timmy on the back. "This one probably doesn't get that one."

"Good point," Timmy says. "I have never seen a commercial before."

"You're wrong about one thing, though," Serena says. She taps Timmy on the shoulder. "Can I?" He moves aside and lets her sit down.

"What's that?"

"I do owe people something. I have an obligation to help. The world is in danger, right?" She clicks through and sees most of the site is empty, just waiting to be filled with terrified citizens of Earth.

"I suppose it is."

"How will people know it's me?"

Timmy hands her a slip of paper. "Here are your sign-in credentials. Obviously, you are going to be SerenaBinn. But I went ahead and registered all the copycats like SerenaBinn1, SerenaBinn2, and on and on, so people can't try and fake you. Also, I know the password is super complicated, but I don't want people brute force stealing it from you. I already signed you in, but in case something happens, you'll have it ready to go."

Serena looks impressed. "You gotta keep this little guy around. Super helpful."

"Ha! Maybe I will!" Reed grabs the papers and stuffs them into his briefcase. "So just let us know if you want us to—"

"Yeah, I'm in," she says. "Let's do it."

"You're sure?"

"Yep. How do I ..."

Timmy leans over and publishes the site. "Ok, it's live."

Reed makes a phone call. "Go ahead and run it." He hangs up. "Here we go," he says to Serena.

"Wow, just like that?"

"Yep. Just like that."

"Let me know if anybody gets extra stupid and trolly," Timmy says. "I'll be monitoring from the station, but I can't catch everything."

Serena is already distracted. Tons of messages are flying in, both in the forum and the chat program. She's having trouble keeping up.

"Will do," she says.

"Come on kid," Reed says to Timmy, "let's let the lady work."

They leave. Serena turns to thank them but they're already gone. She turns back to reading the flood of text flying in, already amazed at the sheer volume of heartache people are experiencing.

Jay sits on his couch, his apartment devoid of other human life for the first time in weeks. A clock in an adjacent room ticks away as the only sound. Jay isn't sure it's even his own clock or where it came from. Probably a leftover from some party.

He pulls the coffee table over to the couch so he can easily reach it. Grabbing his box-o-drugs , he carefully lays out several lines of coke. He also grabs a handful of uppers from the box for good measure. They're multi-colored and he isn't entirely sure what everything is.

He just knows they'll rocket him to the moon. He lines these pills up neatly on the table.

A memory hits him. He met Serena at their high school, Meadowcreek High, when they were sophomores. They were forced to be in a biology lab together. Jay really wanted to pair up with Ryu but the teacher insisted on breaking them apart so they would actually get work done.

Serena strolled up and immediately hated Jay. He could almost physically see the anger coming off her like steam. Later, she told him she thought he was going to drag her down to his level. He didn't blame her since he and Ryu were colossal fuck-ups.

The lab had something to do with nerve endings. They were supposed to use different objects and touch each other on their necks, arms, and other parts of the body with them and document the results. In hindsight Jay thought this was a strange lab and wondered if the teacher wasn't just beating off watching students fondle each other. Come to think of it, wasn't that the guy who was arrested for fucking a student? Maybe not.

Jay and Serena reluctantly performed their duties. At one point Jay rubbed Serena's neck with a feather. She was supposed to be writing down what the sensation was but he noticed she was just sitting there with her eyes closed.

"Write down how it feels," he told her, but she didn't move. Her face got redder and redder so he stopped. "Do you just want to do me instead?" He held out the feather. She still didn't move.

The first time they had sex in his mom's van he made sure to concentrate on her neck. He still hasn't heard anyone scream like that since.

After she gathered herself, Serena wrote down that the feather felt "ticklish and annoying." Jay thought that was the understatement of the year, but he wasn't going to call her on it. On his end he preferred the beaker on his neck as she rolled it hard enough to make it feel like a delightful massage. The feather made him think of the dead bird it was previously attached to so he wrote down "gross."

They didn't start officially dating until senior year, although they hooked up a few times in the interim, including the initial romp in the van. Serena was always far too busy studying as she "valued her future" and had no real interest in tying herself down to anyone. Jay saw a few girls in high school steadily, but nobody ever stood out like Serena.

On their first date, Jay took her out to a pizza place he knew they both loved, Athena's Pizzeria. They were one of "those couples" and sat on the same side of the table. Jay laid out several objects on the table in front of Serena, including the salt shaker, a packet of sugar, a knife, hot sauce, and a few other things he saw around him.

"Choose the best one," he said. "Which one defines you as a person."

She had laughed, wondering if he was on something. He was, of course, but didn't tell her that. He insisted, and she chose the sugar because "she's sweet and she knows it."

Jay had laughed, but somewhere down in the deepest recesses of his brain he knew that was the end of it. He had heard somewhere that unrequited love is the purest, and he immediately understood why. It was silly and ridiculous, but again looking back, that was it. That was their core difference.

He took things seriously, and she did not. It was as simple as that, but something so basic can't be overcome. Not in a world-breaking contract like love.

Jay assesses the pills and coke before him, rearranging them again so they're more aesthetically pleasing. As he does so, he gives each of them names.

"Serena. Uncle Bee. Ryu. Levi."

He picks up a particularly huge pill. It's purple with a tiny picture of the Roadrunner on it. He thinks he got it at a rave several years ago.

"Dad. This one is for you. Wherever the fuck you are. I hope you find what you were looking for out there."

He pours the pills down his throat and starts working on the lines of coke.

## Chapter 17

Serena can't help but giggle at one post on the website talking about how hot she is. She imagines she should be slightly offended since they say she's "hot for a cancer girl" but it's just funny to her. This is what this guy is thinking about as the world ends?

Most of the others on the site are talking about the news story or arguing if it's real or not, which is to be expected. Somebody has figured out how to make a brand-new section of the web forum just for collecting evidence for and against The Disappearing. Serena imagines they aren't supposed to be able to do this but decides it's harmless. Besides, Timmy is supposed to be watching.

She still hasn't checked out the chat room, knowing her name will pop up and show she's there. She's a little afraid of the reaction, considering people from all over the country and probably the world are watching this. But she supposes it's time.

She clicks on the chat and gets a pop-up reminding her to be civil, kind, and respectful. She clicks "Ok" and is taken to the room. Instead of immediately typing she watches people talk to each other. There's a discussion already in progress about the Bank of America building and if it was always half-finished. One user keeps insisting in all caps that it's been like that since they were a child.

It doesn't take long before someone notices Serena has joined the room, so she simply types "Hi." The room promptly explodes, moving so quickly she has no way in keeping up. She does see one user say he will "make sure she keeps her mouth shut about this bullshit one way or another." He is quickly banned and she imagines Timmy on another computer pumping his fist in getting one crazy off the site.

She knows there's a chance she'll chicken out if she doesn't start typing and get down to it. Having so many people listening to her was daunting to say the least. She types:

" _Hello. I know we're all scared._ "

Across town, Hela sits in the house where Serena was born, raised, and got cancer, flipping through a scrapbook. It was an activity Hela enjoyed for years while Serena was growing up, although the interest quickly waned after Serena's initial diagnosis. She tried to get Serena into the hobby but it never took.

This scrapbook details the end of high school for Serena. Here's a pamphlet when she was in the school's rendition of _Camelot_. Serena only had a bit part, a fair dame with one line, but it was almost too much for her and she almost bolted off the stage at the last minute. She never joined another play.

Here's a picture of Serena with their long-gone cat Smackers. Smackers was probably the dumbest cat on Earth and continuously ran into walls with no provocation at all. He died, oddly enough, by choking to death after trying to carry what he thought was a dead mouse inside to show off to his family. The mouse decided to try and escape through Smacker's throat and the end result was not pretty. In the picture Serena is hugging the dumb thing, probably right after he smashed his own head into a brick wall because he saw a bird outside.

On the next page is her nametag from the Taco Bell where she worked during her Junior year. Hela was certain she was smoking pot behind the restaurant every night. She may be a fuddy-duddy, but she knows what pot smells like. Serena ended up with straight A's that year anyway so it's not like it mattered, really.

On the next page is a picture of Serena as she was about to head off to college. She was so excited to go to Georgia Southern University, to finally be on her own for the first time. She had organized her life down to a T, even lining up a job at the school bookstore ahead of time. Of course it wasn't too long after that she started experiencing symptoms, although they wouldn't know it was cancer for quite a while.

Hela stares at Serena's strong, beautiful, confident, glowing face as she hugs Jay in the picture. Fifty-five thousand alternate timelines flash in her head at once, imagining all the possibilities for Serena's life if they had caught the cancer earlier or she had never gotten it in the first place.

It's too much for Hela. She breaks down, sobbing into the pages of her scrapbook.

Serena keeps typing:

" _Even the people in denial are scared. Especially them. I'm scared too, just like you. But I can't help but think there's a pattern to this._ "

Ryu's cab drives past Piedmont Park as he heads to the airport. He notices there are a ton of people out there now milling about like before, most just wandering around aimlessly, some yelling at each other, clearly confused about something. Anybody else would think it's a convention, but Ryu knows what's really going on.

He groans and taps the cabbie on the shoulder. "Can you let me out here?"

The cabbie looks confused but shrugs. Ryu pays and hops out, grabbing his suitcase. He crosses the street to join the crowd.

He drops his suitcase and walks over to the nearest person, a middle-aged woman with thick glasses. She's mumbling to herself as she stares at the ground.

"Excuse me," Ryu says.

The woman looks up at him. Through the thick glasses Ryu sees tremendous pain and confusion in her eyes.

"Why are you here?" Ryu says.

"I don't know. I just wound up here."

"You seem lost. Can I help?"

She closes her eyes and slowly shakes her head. Not in denial, it just seems like she doesn't know what else to do. "I woke up and I have three cars. In my driveway. I live alone. Why do I have three cars? Why is my house so big if I live by myself?"

Ryu takes a deep breath. Around her he can just "see" what's missing. It drifts behind her like a fog, memories floating in the air as if she whispered them in secret but it stained her essence. He can see another woman and a young girl about 16 or 17 smiling at him.

"You had a family," he says to her. "A wife and a teenaged daughter I think. They're gone. They disappeared?"

This news hits her like a sledgehammer. She knows it's true but hearing it out loud doesn't sit well with her. This time she shakes her head, violently, denying this exchange every happened. She wanders away, and Ryu isn't sure if he helped her or not.

There has to be a reason that people like me, near the end, can see this while nobody else can. I don't know if that makes us special somehow, but I like to imagine that it does.

Jay laughs as he sees a giant spot on the ceiling. It's a huge stain, not something you could easily overlook, but he has no idea where it came from. It's obviously been there a long time so it's not like the upstairs neighbors have a leak or anything. It almost looks like somebody splashed an entire pot of coffee up there.

_Serena's right,_ he thinks as he tries to get a better look by spinning around. _People just don't notice shit. That's just how we are._

He spins around some more, trying to get a better view. As the drugs kick in and hit him all at once, the spinning feels amazing, especially as he gains momentum. He holds out his arms so he can feel like he's floating in mid-air.

He closes his eyes to increase the sensation. Thoughts of the past few days and all the troubles he ran into vanish from his head. They're replaced by a hot blankness, a determination to start from scratch, to pretend nothing has happened.

He spins faster, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Beads of sweat erupt from his pores and the opening in his side begins to bleed heavily. On his face, however, is a look of total contentment. If someone were to walk in and see him, they would call him the picture of serenity.

I don't pretend to have all the answers, or really many at all. For most of us here, we're all running out of time. I think this is also something other people can't see or understand, how that changes everything, changes your perspective.

Anne sits at her kitchen table as she feeds Telly. Telly, for his part, is not interested in food at all, happy to bounce around and grab at the air like he usually does. Anne doesn't try to force him to eat as she knows it's futile and he'll eat when he wants.

She puts his little spoon down and watches him. The past few days she's wondered where he got his strong eyebrows from. Her own are weak and ineffectual and one of the first things she learned how to apply makeup to since everybody in middle school made fun of her. So, where the hell did Telly get them from?

Obviously Telly had a father. Anne hasn't convinced herself that he was a virgin birth or anything crazy like that. But she has convinced herself she must've had a string of lovers and one of them knocked her up. She doesn't know who, and she doesn't recall who it might be or when it was, but that's her story and she's sticking to it.

Except for tonight. She's collected everything in the house that has evidence of Stacy's existence on it. Pictures, official documents, love letters, everything has been shoved into a giant box she shoved into the attic. This evening, though, she pulled it out.

She has no idea who this man is or what these items are doing in her home. She feels bad for lying about this to Manny but talking about it with him or anybody else is not feasible. To say it hurts her head to even think about it is an understatement—she can almost feel her mind cracking if she concentrates on it too much.

One picture shows Anne hugging Stacy tightly. It looks like they're at the zoo, standing in front of a mural with all sorts of animals on it. It was taken on a nice, bright, sunshiny day, and Stacy's eyebrows are as black as the night is long.

She knows it means something but can't quite place it. Rather, her brain won't let her place it. Still, she removes every piece of evidence from the box, doing her best to come to grips with this new reality.

But I think between everyone here we can figure something out. A sick little girl once held my hand so I wouldn't fly away. She said she didn't want me to go to the edge of the Earth.

Down the hall from Serena, Ginger lies in bed, her eyes rolling around as her brain tries to come up with justifications of everything happening to her. In her mind she's an actor pretending to be in a coma, knowing she's doing it so well she's going to win an award. ALL the awards.

Next to her, her dad reads her favorite story to her out loud. It's the story of a princess who escapes her castle to become a wandering adventurer, determined to find the secret of a lost treasure oceans away. Lamar does his best to keep his voice steady and unwavering as he reads the story, frequently stopping so she can't hear him break down. He knows she can hear him and only wants her to hear his voice strong and full of positive energy.

He reaches the end of the book. Not knowing what else to do, he starts over, this time trying to make it even more fun and exciting than the last time.

She'd only known me a day but she already loved me so much. If anything, I want to do this for Ginger, the movie star who won't get her shot.

Serena runs out of steam and stops typing. _What a bunch of rambling nonsense,_ she thinks.

However, her adoring fans don't agree, and immediately bombard her with praise, well wishes, and offerings of comradeship. The prevailing thought in the feed is that with everyone working together they can figure out what is going on and hopefully reverse it, or at least stop it in its tracks.

She smiles, taking a second to admire the humanity in the thread. Looks like Timmy won't have too much to do with these fine folks after all. She doesn't take too long to sit and admire, though, as it's time for her to get to work. Her fingers fly as she starts typing again.

## Chapter 18

Ryu is completely surrounded by people in the park. Most are demanding answers from him although others are simply onlookers trying to figure out if this is some magic trick or gag.

"If everyone will settle down and relax," Ryu says, knowing it's futile, "I'll try and help everyone. But it has to be one at a time."

One man next to Ryu wearing an orange sweater pipes up. "I found a doghouse in my backyard. I don't own a dog. Why do I have that doghouse?"

Ryu can see the dog and the orange sweater man cuddling in images, floating just behind the man himself. It's almost like a speech bubble in a cartoon.

"You had a dog ... and now it's gone," Ryu says.

A short man wearing a soccer jersey of the Colombian National Team rolls his eyes. "Ok, that one was super easy."

Across the street, Manny's car pulls up to a stoplight. He can see the huge crowd gathered with so many people milling about, some walking in circles, though most are congregated in the middle of the park.

"What in the hell?" His journalistic instincts kick in and he quickly pulls over to the side of the road and parks. Of course he doesn't have any of his equipment with him, but he grabs his phone in case there's anything to record.

The crowd has erupted again, all trying to talk to Ryu at once. "I said one at a time, please!"

"I don't understand why my apartment has diapers and an oxygen machine," a tall, super-tanned woman near him says.

Again the images of her life appear form behind her. Ryu sees this woman arguing with an old woman—truly screaming at each other—plus the tanned woman wiping the old woman's butt after she used the bathroom.

"Your mother," Ryu says. "She lived with you. She's gone now."

Colombian Jersey Man clucks his tongue. "Come on, how do you know this?"

Another man with a huge face tattoo says, "This is such a crock of shit."

Ryu points to a nearby tree. "If that tree over there were to vanish, there would be traces of it left. Leaves on the ground, acorns eaten by squirrels, stuff like that. Traces of its existence. I can just see the traces of your loved ones while you can't. I don't know how else to explain it."

Manny walks up to the group. He can't quite see what's going on so he slowly makes his way to the front like he's at a concert. Considering how bulky and muscly he is, nobody stops him.

A short woman with a pixie haircut crosses her arms. "Wait, so you can read our thoughts?"

"No, no," Ryu says, "nothing like that. I can just see what's missing. Like I have the pieces of the puzzle you can't quite complete."

Colombian Jersey speaks up again. "This is just like, what, cold reading is it called? Give me a break. He can just say whatever he wants because he knows we're scared!"

Super-Tan gets in Colombian Jersey's face. "He's just trying to help! Shut up!"

Manny steps up to the front and takes out the mystery picture from his pocket. He shoves it towards Ryu. "What about me? Who is this woman in the picture?"

A man in an Atlanta Braves cap bumps into Manny. "You can't just cut in line like that!"

"I think we were dating," Manny says, ignoring the other man. "But I have no idea who she is."

Ryu doesn't need the picture, he can clearly see the woman behind Manny. He can see images of them growing up together, of heartache and loss, losing their parents, and moving in together to start a new life in Atlanta. "I certainly hope you weren't dating," he says. "This is your sister."

Manny's face goes completely pale. "My ... what?"

"But she's gone now. She died ... oh," Ryu says, his face growing sadder. "She died before all this happened. Then she disappeared."

Manny drops the picture as suddenly his entire body feels weak. "How does that ... that doesn't make any sense ..."

The crowd noise erupts again, everyone clamoring for time with Ryu. "Ok, ok, one at a time, please! I can't hear everyone at once!"

Manny manages to grab the picture before it's crushed by the crowd. He stumbles backwards away from everyone and leans against a tree, the tree Ryu pointed out earlier. Colombian Jersey walks over to Manny and leans down.

"Don't believe him," he says. "This is all just crap. There's no reason he knows any of this."

"Then why are you still here?" Manny says, putting his head in his hands. His whole body is tingling and it's hard to concentrate.

Colombian Jersey doesn't have an answer. He walks back over to the crowd and continues trying to get Ryu's attention so he can convince him he's lying.

Manny struggles to breathe. Everything is rushing back for him. His brain still tries to justify the fact his sister vanished into thin air by telling him he never had one, but it's swiftly becoming impossible.

"This isn't fair," Manny sobs to himself, "I shouldn't have to do this twice."

As Ryu tries to help other people, he can't help but watch Manny collapsed against the tree. He didn't mean to hurt him so badly. He didn't want to hurt anybody; in fact, the point was to help people.

There's another groundswell of movement around him. He's starting to feel crushed and everyone is throwing questions and accusations at him nonstop. He sees Manny collect himself, stand up, and walk away from the crowd.

"Excuse me, excuse me," Ryu says to the crowd.

"Hey, you can't just leave now," Colombian Jersey says. "That's not fair. I have questions too!"

"Look, I'll try and come back, I just—" Ryu sees Manny is heading out of the park and into an adjacent street. He hates to do it, but he pushes his way past the throngs of people. "Sorry, excuse me!"

Manny heads to his car, ignoring the loud roar from behind him. He figures it's just more angry people objecting to Ryu's prophecies or whatever they are. So he's surprised when he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Ryu breathing hard and staring at him.

"Hey," Ryu says, holding up a finger to tell him to wait due to being out of breath, "I hope I didn't upset you too bad, man."

Manny takes a huge breath, still trying to calm his nerves. "You were trying to help."

"Yeah." Ryu looks back at the crowd. Nobody followed him, but several stare at him from afar, clearly trying to decide whether to chase him down. "I don't think they know that."

"Probably not. I'll say from experience it's hard to differentiate or separate yourself from the situation."

"Are you headed to your car?" Ryu says. "I know this is a bit much to ask, but I need to get out of here. I'm starting to feel crushed and kind of weird."

"Where to?" He waves Ryu to follow him to his car. "Oh, name's Manny."

"Ryu. And thanks, down on Piedmont. I've got somebody to check on." They hop in Manny's car and take off. Manny can see the crowd already forgetting about Ryu completely, instead wandering in circles again. "I just came back from the airport but I couldn't get a ticket. It's a nightmare down there."

"What, like airplanes disappeared?" Manny says, half-joking, but then realizing that's exactly what Ryu is saying. "Oh. Jesus."

"Yeah. People wandering all over the runways and shit. Plus, tickets are so freaking expensive anyway. I don't know what I was thinking."

Manny drives down Piedmont Avenue. He looks at all the other drivers on the road, wondering who all is having the same kind of crazy-ass day he's having. "So, this is all for real?"

"Afraid so," Ryu says, staring out the window. "Sorry about your sister. You really don't have any memory whatsoever?"

"When I found that picture I thought I'd walked into the wrong apartment," Manny says, choking back more tears. "I even checked the door to see what number it was at one point. I could swear in court that I've never seen this woman in my life. And she's my ... my _sister_. Didn't one woman say she forgot her own mother? How the hell does that happen?"

"I don't know. But if it gets worse we're going to have pandemonium. Those people in that park were so confused they were just walking around in the park. They didn't know where to go or what to do." He points at the next intersection. "Turn right up here. Imagine if the whole city is like that."

It finally hits Manny: "So if you can see it ..."

Ryu just nods, knowing what he means. "Yeah. I don't know. Maybe liver failure? That would fit with my shitty lifestyle."

"I can't imagine—" Manny can't finish as he's forced to slam on the brakes. Up ahead is a huge traffic jam. All the other drivers are out of their cars, staring ahead at whatever caused the backup.

Ryu and Manny join them, trying to see what the hell is going on. Up ahead on the street a bus has flipped over on its back. Onlookers help the trapped passengers get out of the wreckage. There's a large pool of blood near the front of the flipped bus.

"Oh shit," Ryu says. "The driver disappeared."

"You can see that?"

Ryu nods. It's attached to the bus like a bubble. One minute everything is fine and then he's just gone. The bus jerked over onto the sidewalk and ended up on its back. He wonders how the passengers are justifying the lack of a driver to themselves. This kind of thing can't last.

"What are you going to do?" Manny says. "What the hell are we all going to do?"

"I ... don't have the slightest clue," Ryu says. "I'm going to check on my friend and get some coffee. Maybe I'll form a group to save the world. Or maybe I'll sit back and just watch it burn. I have so many options."

They watch in horror as the group helping the bus passengers drags a very dead old woman out of the wreckage. Manny shudders. "Christ."

"My friend is just down the road here," Ryu says. "I can walk. Thanks for the lift."

Manny nods and Ryu walks down the sidewalk away from the wreckage of the bus. He looks back at his car and then at the mass of other people blocking him in. He chases after Ryu.

"Mind if I tag along?" Manny says. Ryu smiles and nods and they hurry down the street.

Anne flinches as she feels a strong hand grab her shoulder and give it a good squeeze. She isn't sure who dares to touch her like this at work but they better have a good explanation.

"Look, mother—" It's Gerald. And he has a huge grin on his face. Like, a real one. "Oh. Hey."

"Good morning, Anne!" Gerald says. If he's faking being this jovial he must be taking acting classes because Anne's never seen this before. "How are you doing today?"

"Oh ... what?" She's completely confused.

"Good to hear!" He leans in and Anne finally realizes he's going in for a hug. He squeezes her good. It's actually a nice warm hug. In her surprise she forgets to return it but finally does.

"You feeling ok?" Anne says.

"Never better, Anne," he says. "My mother told me she's dying but that's ok."

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry to hear." That explains it, he's lost his mind with grief. Has to be. "Let me know if I can do anything."

"I sure will do that. The house will be lonely without her but life goes on, right? See you later, Anne. Take care." He gives her shoulder another good squeeze and walks down the hallway towards Reed's office.

"Ah ... you too."

He waves goodbye as he turns the corner. Anne is so confused she feels like she just fell into a brief coma.

"Wait, he lives with his mother?"

In his office, Reed sees Gerald coming and reaches for one of his cigars, figuring a big fight is coming. Those occasions were really the only times Gerald came to see him so why would this be any different?

Except Gerald is smiling. This could be worse. Reed pauses but then grabs one of the cigars just in case. He takes a big swig out of his flask.

"Howdy, Reed!" Gerald says as he walks into the office. He says it so loudly a few people out on the floor turn to see what the commotion is. "What's on the ol' agenda today?"

Reed swallows hard. "Ol' agenda? Have you finally started drinking?" Reed offers the flask to Gerald who waves it away.

Gerald puffs up his chest, feeling some of the familiar haughtiness come back. "Of course not!" It fades away. Clearly this will be a long battle with his old self. "I put in for an attitude readjustment. They rushed me in as they said it was an emergency!"

Reed laughs, but warily, like he isn't sure Gerald is sure he just made a light joke. "Attempts at humor. Huh. It is a brand-new day, isn't it?"

"I think I frightened poor Anne in the hallway. Maybe I should go back and apologize to her." Gerald leans forward with a sheepish grin on his face. "So ... any new kitten stories I can cover?"

"Oh yeah, for sure," Reed says, offering Gerald a chair. "Have a seat." Reed closes the door and leans against the desk in front of him. "Tell me, now that you have a total attitude readjustment and I assume will likely tell me the truth ... what do you think about this whole disappearing thing?"

Gerald takes a deep breath, recalling his conversation with his mother. He briefly tastes one of her grilled cheese sandwiches at the memory. "Up until last night I would've told you everybody involved was just insane. I had several bridges I was willing to sell off at a good discount, if you know what I mean. But now ..." He hesitates to tell Reed about his mother. Feels like it would just be for sympathy points. "Now I just think there is too much evidence floating around to ignore."

"I concur," Reed says, offering the flask again. "You sure?" Gerald waves it away again and Reed takes another sip. "Frankly, this shit scares the hell out of me. I called my ex-wife last night. Do you remember everything we went through?"

Gerald remembers. Reed's divorce was a nightmare, and not just for Reed. He's never seen him like that or since. Gerald is certain his ex-wife tried to get him in bed with her a number of times, although maybe that was just ego talking.

"Oh, I do," Gerald says.

"I called her just to hear her voice. I haven't spoken to her since ... well, since about three months before the divorce was finalized. I must be losing it."

"What exactly scares you about this phenomenon?"

Reed laughs and paces. "Turning on the journalist, huh? I suppose that's why I paid more when WALB was dragging their heels. What's making me sweat about this that every single thing we've ever done might have been for nothing. Every writer, every camera operator, every reporter, every coffee-getting intern worked so hard for absolutely no reason. Hell, everyone at WALB for that matter. For everything to just vanish ..."

Reed walks over to the far wall. He has a few paintings here, nothing major, just some random color for his otherwise dull office. He picked them up at a flea market a few years ago. Mentally he told himself he had done his part for the art world.

"Every piece of art," he continues. "Every discovery. Every invention. Never mind if it disappears or not ... but the idea that it could, just like that. Well, Gerald, that pisses me off. I need someone to take the heat for it. I need someone to blame, goddamnit. I can't seem to function in a world like this until there's someone to pin it on."

He takes another big swig from his flask. "And man oh man do I hope we're there to report on it."

Gerald walks over and joins Reed to look at his artwork. "Reed, I think we're on the same page, but on opposite sides. Nothing has changed. The world is the same as we know it. Everything is as valid as it once was. Maybe more so now. We now know we live in a world where this kind of thing happens. Big deal!"

"Big deal? Are you serious?"

"Do you remember when we busted that sewage treatment plant?"

"Oh yeah," Reed says. "I really wanted to call that story 'In Deep Shit.' I cannot tell you how badly I wanted that."

"That still happened, right? We saved people's lives. We improved the world. It was in a small way, but it mattered to them nonetheless. We made a difference and didn't just sit back idly. That's why I got into this business in the first place. Well, sort of."

"You seem to have it figured out." Reed says, sitting at his desk. Gerald sits back down as well. "Where are the protests? Why aren't people marching in the street? Or rioting, or having a fucking parade? Doing something?"

"Nobody has time to care. If they do pay attention they probably think we dreamed it up. Maybe we did."

"Never thought I'd be pouring myself out to you," Reed says. He offers the flask again to Gerald who declines again. "Come on."

Gerald grins and accepts the flask, taking a small swig. The bourbon burns as it goes down his throat and he suddenly remembers why he has never been fond of drinking. It wasn't just his mother insisting on keeping it out of the house.

"Woof," he says as he finishes up.

Anne walks in. "Hey, Reed, I think Gerald has lost his—" She notices Gerald is here and drinking out of a flask in the middle of a workday. "Oh."

Gerald laughs and offers the flask to Anne who accepts and takes a swig. "Nah. I haven't lost my mind. Just sick of playing the jerk role, both here at the station and in life. Sorry for freaking you out. Oh, have you seen Manny, by the way?"

"No. Not today." She hands the flask back to Reed.

"Damn. I owe him lunch. Several, really. He's put up with me for far too long. Or old me, I should say."

"Hey, what about me?" Anne says. "I've put up with you too, where's my lunch?"

"You got it! One lunch coming up! And any time after that!"

Anne can't help but stare at Gerald's giant smile. She's not even sure she's seen his teeth this much before.

"So weird." She leaves. Gerald and Reed laugh.

Ryu and Manny reach the block of Jay's apartment. Out front, he can see somebody pacing back and forth near the door. As they get closer Ryu can see it's Edith.

"Edith?" Ryu says. He quickens his pace to see what's wrong. She doesn't answer him and continues walking back and forth around Jay's door.

"Edith? What's wrong? What are you doing here?"

"I was ... I was here. For a reason. But I don't know now. It was here and then it was gone," she says, still pacing.

"She looks like I feel all the time," Manny says. "Like all those people in the park."

"I'm here for a reason but I can't remember why. It feels like I left my car keys somewhere and I can't find them. And then I forgot my car keys. And then I forgot my car."

Ryu stops her from pacing and gets in her face. "Edith. Pay attention. Did you come to see Jay?"

She avoids his gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Behind her, Ryu can see she and Jay's relationship floating around her like a series of soap bubbles. They're taking drugs, they're driving around, they're hanging out, here's one where they're fondling each other in Jay's car.

"I don't know who that is," Edith says.

Ryu covers his mouth in shock and then runs inside Jay's apartment. He knows Jay is gone, there's no getting around it, but knowing something and accepting it are two separate things.

"Jay!" He yells pointlessly. "Jay!"

The apartment is still a mess. There's still a pile of drugs on the coffee table including Jay's box-o-drugs full of coke. The one thing that has changed is Jay's presence is gone. Ryu can feel the change inside the apartment.

Ryu storms outside and grabs Edith by the arms. "You better not be pulling my leg, you bitch!"

"Whoa, whoa," Manny says, pulling Ryu back. "What's gotten into you, man?"

"I'm just lost!" Edith says. "I don't know what to do! I don't know why I'm here! I just knew I had to come over here ... and ..." She shakes her head sharply. "I don't know."

"Jesus." Ryu lets her go and sits down on the sidewalk, leaning against Jay's door. "Oh, Jesus. Edith, our friend Jay lived here. We came all the time to party and drink and hang out and have fun. But he's gone now."

"Oh, shit," Manny says.

"Gone now," Edith says, not understanding in the slightest.

"Gone now," Ryu says. "Fuck me."

"I'm really sorry you guys," Manny says.

"Did I know you too?" Edith says, even more confused.

"No."

"Jay was my friend since middle school," Ryu tells Manny. "My best friend. Fuck. I need to tell Serena about this. She deserves to know."

"Serena who?"

"Binn. His ex-wife."

"You're kidding ... I just met her. She was on the news. I shot that segment."

Ryu stands up and brushes himself off. He grabs Edith's arms, but gently this time. "Edith, are you going to be ok?"

"Gone now," she says.

Manny and Ryu look at each other. "You can come with us if you want," Manny says.

Edith shakes her head sharply again. "Um. No. I think I'll stay here. I'm sure I came here for a reason. I just need to figure it out, that's all. That's all."

Ryu lets her go and she continues her pacing back and forth near Jay's apartment door. He notices she never looks at the door itself as it was probably too painful to even acknowledge that much. There wasn't much they can do for her, if anything.

"Ok, let's go," Ryu says. He and Manny head back to get Manny's car from the blockage down the street. Ryu spares one final glance back at Edith as they leave.

## Chapter 19

As the phenomenon continues to worsen across the world, everyday people continue to be caught in average situations gone completely wrong.

A little boy named Zach has just gotten into video games. His favorites are racing games. The thrill of the countdown is unlike anything he's ever experienced in his young, brief life. His parents spent way too much money getting him a console to play games on, but it's worth it to hear him laugh and cheer.

More than anything, he loves the countdown before the race starts. 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... LET'S GO! He likes to shout the last part out as loudly as he can. With his tiny little voice it comes out as "LUSGO!"

After school, Zach grabs a juice and some cookies and sits down to play. He grabs the controller, starts up the game, and begins a race.

Here it is, the great countdown. Time for 3, 2, and 1 and LUSGO!

He chows down on a cookie for energy and steels his nerves for the day's first big race.

3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

There is no game. There was no game. There was never a game.

Zach stares at the cabinet where his console never was. He knows something is wrong but can't place it. He knows he should be doing something right now, something fun, something amazing ... but what was it? The only thing stuck in his mind is "3 ... 2 ... 1 ..."

"Three ... two ... one ..." he says out loud.

He takes a swig of juice and eats another cookie. He still can't place what's wrong here. He has his cookies, his juice, he's sitting in the right place. But there's a piece missing.

Zach grabs his snack and walks up front to find his mom.

"Three, two, one," he says.

"What's that, dear?" his mother, Stephanie, says, as she works on an engineering sketch on her desk.

He points to the back of the house. "Three, two, one."

"Use your words, honey," Stephanie says. "What are you telling me right now?"

Zach's brain is stuck. He knows other words but they won't come. "Three, two, one!" he says, getting frustrated.

Stephanie's wife Yana walks in from working on the yard, covered in dust and dirt.

"Tell your mom," Stephanie says.

"What is it?" Yana says.

"Three, two, one!" Zach says, jumping up and down.

Yana shrugs at Stephanie who shrugs back.

Days later it evolves from a curiosity to an outright scare. Zach seems to be physically unable to say anything else, no matter what his parents try. They take him to the pediatrician who can't find anything wrong with him. They tell him they think he's had a stroke, but tests don't show anything of the like.

It will be years before Zach is able to say anything else. Even then he will speak into a world so different that it might as well be his first words. Stephanie and Yana are confounded yet elated when Zach walks up front from his bedroom, puts one finger in the air, and says:

"LUSGO!"

A man named Doug used to love hiking, but getting outside and expending energy wasn't simple anymore since the diagnosis. The most he's gotten out recently has been to stroll around his home in West Atlanta. He's replaced this by spending most of his time online, talking to others in his situation.

However, one beautiful weekend Doug decides to risk it and hit up a trail. He's walked the Silver Comet Trail several times, once taking it all the way to Alabama. He didn't realize until he got to the state line he had no way back. He ended up calling in a favor from a friend to come pick him up.

When he walks, he _walks_ , and tries to completely empty his head. Today it will be difficult, considering everything going on in his life, including all his hair falling out, but he intends to try. It is a beautiful day out, after all, and if he can clear his head on any day it would be this day.

There's an entrance to the trail at a grocery store so he parks there and begins his walk. It's a little difficult at first but he soon finds his rhythm. The birds sound extra loud today, but maybe that's because he hasn't heard them like this in so long. He takes a deep breath and the air is so sweet it almost chokes him.

He turns the corner of the trail and almost plows into a mass of people standing in his way. They're clustered like they're all waiting for a coffee stand to open up. Some tap their feet impatiently.

"What ... what's happening here?" Doug says.

A woman near the back turns to him. "Waiting for the trail to finish."

"Finish? Finish what?"

Doug pushes his way to the front and sees the trail ends just ahead. He knows this isn't right and can in fact see the trail that vanished. Of course none of the people here know anything about that. They just see a dead trail, one they probably know is supposed to be there, but can't explain why it's not.

Just ahead, through the trees, he sees the part of the trail that hasn't disappeared and continues through the woods. There seem to be some other people on that part of the trail waiting to come this way. Doug turns to address the crowd.

"People!" He raises his hands and waves them to get their attention. "We can just walk through this. Look, just ahead, it's the trail!"

"But it's not done yet," a confused man says. "We should wait, right?"

The crowd agrees, nodding along.

"This is just a temporary setback," Doug says. "You can see people over there. The trail is there. We just need to walk around this part and go join them. Who's with me?"

Nobody is with him. He shrugs and walks through the woods where the trail should be to get to the other side.

"Hey, you can't do that!" somebody in the crowd shouts from behind him. "It's not done yet! Are you crazy?"

"I can do what I damn well want," Doug says. "Just watch me."

"He's gonna get in trouble," the person says.

Doug has no time for getting in or not getting into trouble. It was his time to get back to walking and nothing was going to stop him.

As he approaches the other side of the trail, he can hear the small crowd murmuring.

"How did you do that?" a man in the crowd says.

Doug just shrugs as he continues down the trail. He feels like he has enough energy to walk all the way to Alabama again.

Ophie, or CmdrChemtrail as she's known to her "friends" online, can't believe her eyes. She's watching the TV (rabbit ears, of course, no data-mining cable for her) and they're talking about it. IT. The thing she's been tracking for months now. She was the only one who could see it, but now it's everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

Maybe it's an isolated incident. She hops on her computer and logs onto some of the usual websites (through several layers of proxies, of course) like conspirachan.com, steelbeamsonfire.com, and fjd7s873f2dsfdsa93f29f239ffdsaafdsfi2f3.net (this one is hard to remember, but she refuses to use bookmarks or write anything down) to try and confirm if others are seeing their own local news stations reporting on it.

Unfortunately for her, it's the same story everywhere. Here's one in Austin. Knoxville. Greenville. That idiot LizardRulers88 (who refuses to believe anything about the fluoride in the water program) says there's a daily report on The Disappearing in Tallahassee.

This is such horseshit. She's the one who noticed this first. For months nobody believed her, including her "friends" on these stupid fucking websites. Now the damn mass media conglomerates get to pretend they were here first and steal the story. Typical.

She furiously types on the message boards on conspirachan.com, telling everyone how stupid they look now that it's been confirmed The Disappearing is real. She reminds them she was the one who named the thing in the first place. She should've copyrighted it if she was willing to give any information to the government.

She's almost totally ignored. Nobody cares anymore who first heard about it or made history discovering a brand-new phenomenon, or who found out the world we all know isn't real, just like she always knew. No, nobody cares. They're on to the next thing, whether The Disappearing is an alien run program or the next phase of attacks from the Aztecs since 2012 was a failure for them.

There's a noise outside. She carefully pulls back her pitch-black drapes to investigate. Her elderly neighbor Nara is dragging some trash down to the curb. Ophie watches her to make sure she isn't spying on her again. Nara huffs and puffs and finally gets the trash down to the curb and begins the trek back up the driveway.

Wait—did she just look over here? Did she know Ophie is watching her? Maybe not. She decides not to make another three-hour long video about it. There were already four of them on her channel. That was probably enough. But she keeps it in the back of her mind to possibly make for later.

The news makes another cycle and there's the damn story again. Unbelievable. It's big enough to recycle and re-recycle for public consumption. Not when she sent out stories by the dozen online or when she went out to the park to shout at people the world was coming to an end. No, only when the fat cats start barking do people pay attention.

This gets her wondering: who's benefiting? Who's getting paid? That was her first rule, a belief she stood firm in, getting to the bottom of the real story, a.k.a. "Follow the Money." Everything happened for a reason—not in some spiritual or religious way, but news items don't get tossed out there like this without somebody getting a cut somewhere.

The question is: why? She begins digging.

As far as she can tell, she was the first to start posting about The Disappearing on the web, unless it was somewhere on the Deep Web and she missed it. But for sure on the surface web. She looks back on the first post from a few months ago.

In it, she asked the forum if anyone else had noticed "tiny bits" of the world vanishing around them. She tells them she thought people were stealing from her late at night as she woke up and her favorite knife, a fire extinguisher, and a box of tissues were gone. But as more things vanished, the more she realized this went beyond mere theft.

Naturally the responses teased her, calling her a nut, saying she was just misplacing things and forgetting about them. One poster, Anon72348922389, agreed with her, but this user was known for their outlandish claims so it didn't mean much.

On a whim she checks the usernames of the people who "liked" the post. She suspects most of these are sarcastic likes but checks each username individually anyway. One in particular is interesting: "gritsngravy2323." It has no other posts or likes.

She googles the name and finds it has been used on other sites. Of note it's been used on Reddit, namely a sub-Reddit for filmmakers. This person hasn't posted a lot, but they do indicate they can be found on IMDB. She finds the name of their short film, something called _Dracula Vs. The Floating Skull_. The director's name is Manifred Landlow.

She googles the name. Here's all of Manifred's social media info, including his work history. It turns out he's a filmmaker on the weekends, but during the week he works in an office.

Ah, there it is. He works at a non-profit for climate change awareness. Bingo. Big Climate Change got to her. AGAIN.

She walks back over to the window to make sure Nara isn't spying on her. Sure enough, she's outside, working on her yard. "Working," she should say, because Ophie is sure she's got an earpiece in or a camera in her hair or something. She had to be careful.

"I knew it," she says out loud. She cringes as she realizes this might have been picked up by whatever audio device Nara is using. She sits back down at her computer.

What to do about this? She knew who was behind it. She knew what their plan was—to delegitimize her and drive everyone to their version of the truth. Sure, they were reporting on The Disappearing, but their version of the events, not the real thing. They had done this before, so many times, so many false flags. And here she was in the middle of one herself. It was invigorating, in a way.

There was only one thing she could do. Ophie figures it will leave her vulnerable to attack. Maybe they'll make her vanish like everything and everyone else is. It was a risk she had to take.

It was time to debunk it. All of it. Destroy her legacy. She would rather watch it all burn rather than let "them" take it from her.

She logs onto all the usual websites, signs in as CmdrChemtrail, and gets to work.

Kinta first fell in love with The Crashing Waves two years ago. They had a minor hit on the radio, "Feel That Oomph," she first heard carpooling with her friends to school. Something about the bassline combined with the singer's shrill voice caught her right in the middle of her chest.

Soon she had everything the band had ever made, including some rarer EP releases. The earlier releases were pretty rough, and it took her a while to get into them, but eventually she fell in love with them just as much as "Feel That Oomph." She makes a vow to memorize every word and every note.

So naturally when the band announced their latest tour and they were coming through Atlanta she knew she had to go. She didn't even care they were merely an opener and not headlining. Whatever she could get out of a live experience with the band would be enough for her. There was no way she was going to miss this.

While everyone else inside the venue is trying to look cool and pretend like they don't care, Kinta is hyped beyond recognition. The Crashing Waves were up first so waiting on them to go on felt like an eternity. During the soundcheck she got a brief preview when the tech tested out the band's unique bass guitar. She suppresses a squeal.

The techs leave, the soundcheck all done. More waiting. She can't take it anymore and screams out: "THE CRASHING WAVES! WHOOO!" People around her look at her awkwardly but she doesn't care. No way was she going to curb her enthusiasm because other people were lame.

Finally, the lights go out. It's time. Kinta screams as loudly as she can. The band hasn't played a note and her throat already feels like it's on fire. An ominous backbeat starts, signifying the start of the show.

The guitarist, Headspace, walks out and waves at the crowd. Now here comes Renee, the saxophonist. She decides not to acknowledge the crowd, just coolly picks up her saxophone and gets ready to jam. The drummer, who goes by "Fringe Leaf" for a reason Kinta can't decipher, comes out, twirling his drumsticks. And then there they are, the bassist Flint and the singer Tia, pumping up the crowd right before they slam into the first song.

The opening notes of "Tear Down the Walls" from the band's first self-titled album hit Kinta like a ton of bricks. There's a level of separation in her head where she can't actually believe she's here listening to them play. At any point she expects to just wake up in her bed. It didn't help she got almost no sleep the night before because she was too excited.

She closes her eyes, feeling the amazing bassline coming from Flint's bass. The man can play like nobody's business, and she wonders how he learned to play like that, at what point he realized he was a genius and could do anything with the instrument.

Then something is wrong. The music is different. She opens her eyes and sees Flint standing in place on stage, his hands empty. Oh, that's right, he never had a bass. They must've been playing a live track so he could find his bass. That's what was going on.

Flint looks lost. Why doesn't he just go get a bass? One of the techs run up to him and talks to him but he doesn't respond. The tech runs off, presumably to find Flint a bass guitar. Weird he didn't have one in the first place. Likely the venue's fault.

Flint decides to start dancing in place like he's in a ska band. Kinta can see the confusion all over his face and wonders why nobody gave him a bass to play. He was always great with the bass, wasn't he? The other members of the band don't seem to have noticed for some reason, continuing with the song. They must be caught up in the music like Kinta is.

The tech runs back, this time carrying a bass for Flint to play. The band has started to notice there's no bassline to keep time and keeps looking back at him as they struggle to continue. Eventually they're forced to stop as Flint is due for a solo.

"Booo!" the crowd jeers in unison.

"This is the band you were screaming about?" some bitch next to Kinta says. "They're garbage."

"Go fuck yourself," Kinta says, near tears.

Flint tests out the new bass guitar, making sure it's tuned correctly.

"Sorry about that, folks," Tia says. "Flint forgot we had a show today, apparently."

Flint waves sheepishly and gives a thumbs up to the band.

"You got this, Flint!" Kinta screams, her throat in tatters.

Flint looks out in the crowd to see who screamed at him. Kinta waves and Flint kisses his fingers and points at her.

At this point Kinta's soul leaves her body as she knows nothing in her entire life will ever top this moment. She'll tell her grandkids about this, maybe chisel it in stone for generations to come to marvel at. Even years later when she meets the band backstage this moment tops it hands down.

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch, and Kinta drives home that night with her ears ringing and her brain full of amazing memories.

Coffee. Keys. Wallet. Other keys. Phone. Lanyard. Something else? No. That's everything. Right? Right.

Abe knows he should tell somebody he's having trouble remembering things, especially at work. But he's a proud man and figures he can make it work until he's retired. That's not too much longer anyway, so why worry?

Ah, his water bottle. That's what he's forgetting. The doctor says drink more water so he obliges. He hates it, but the doctor is right. When your pee is the color of a highlighter you tend to listen to the authorities. His hands and pockets full, Abe walks out the door for work.

No, dammit, the fish! He forgot to feed the fish. He grunts and puts everything down on the hood of the car and opens the front door again. Grabbing the fish food off the table, he opens the top of the aquarium—

Oh, right. The fish are gone. They left. He forgot all about that. He closes the lid, reminding himself to get rid of the aquarium since it's no longer needed. Ever since things started vanishing off the face of the planet he's had more trouble than usual keeping his days straight.

He walks back outside and starts up the car. At the last second he realizes he left his coffee cup, water bottle, and his other keys on the hood, so he gets out and grabs everything, laughing at himself as he does so. If only Billy could see him now.

Satisfied he has everything this time, he makes the short drive to work. He's been blessed not to have to get on the interstate at all for his commute. Even if he lived further away he would probably find a way to skate around the interstate as he hates it. Why is everyone in such a hurry?

He turns right past the Wendy's. Well, where the Wendy's was, anyway. He can't recall if it was ever there or it vanished like his fish. He's pretty sure he used to go to the Wendy's. But maybe it was a different Wendy's. They had good baked potatoes.

Did he remember his coffee cup? Yes, here it is. He takes a sip. He forgot creamer. Awful. He remembered sugar but no creamer. This is worse than drinking it straight black. He tells himself to get some fresh from the office.

He pulls into the gate. Did he remember his badge? Yes, here it is, on the lanyard. He shows it to Clint. Clint nods and lets him through. The old guard, Chris, was much nicer and Abe enjoyed talking to him, but then one day he was gone. Nobody remembers Chris, but Abe does. Clint isn't as nice so he doesn't talk to him.

Abe parks in his spot. A nice short drive with no traffic. He suspects it's because people aren't driving anymore because of that crazy disappearing what-not going on, but it works out for him. Getting stuck behind a ton of cars every morning is for the birds.

He opens the door to get out. Just before he shuts the door he hears the hum of his car and realizes he didn't turn it off. The keys are still in the ignition. Plus, he forgot his coffee cup and water bottle! What a mess. He turns off the car, locks the doors, and grabs his drinks. He takes a sip of the coffee and remembers he forgot to put creamer in, blech.

Nobody at the front desk, typical. Or was it? It's been a while since he's noticed. He just walks over to the elevator and gets in. Nobody in the elevator either. What day is it? Is today a work day? Pretty sure it is. He almost takes a sip of his coffee again but switches to the water in time.

The elevator doors open. Yes, it's a work day, other people are here. Some of the terminals have vanished but his is still in operation. He recalls when Marsha's terminal vanished. She showed up for work and everybody just pretended like she had never worked there. Abe didn't say anything of course but he knew she had worked there almost as long as he had. Now she was gone, just like her terminal.

"Hey, Abe," his coworker Rhonda says. He nods at her. That was her name, right? Rhonda? Maybe he's thinking of that old song. He keeps his mouth shut just in case.

"Ready for the day?" she says.

"Oh, yeah," Abe says. "Just gotta ..." He sets his drinks down at his terminal.

"Gotta what?" Rhonda says.

"Heh. Totally forgot what I was saying." He shrugs and takes a seat.

Rhonda pats him on the shoulder. "Keep 'em safe out there."

Abe nods, still trying to remember what he was supposed to do when he got into work. He puts on his headset and logs into the terminal.

"Rail Traffic Control, this is Amtrak 4837 out of New Orleans, is the coast clear? How we looking? We're ready to go if you are."

Abe checks the schedule and the map but can't keep his head straight, knowing there's something he's forgetting. Something important. Maybe coffee will clear his head.

He takes a sip. Oh, yeah, that's it! The ruined coffee.

"Yep, all clear," Abe says into his headset.

He removes his headset and walks away from the terminal to get new coffee.

Through his headset: "Hello? What was that, Control?"

"Pretty sure he said all clear. We're running late as it is, sir."

"Fine. All aboard!"

On Abe's terminal, bright red lights begin flashing, unseen by Abe or anyone else.

## Chapter 20

Serena rubs her eyes. They're burning but she doesn't want to look away from the screen. Her fingers ache but she can't stop typing. Her back hurts but she'd rather be sitting here than lying down or even staring out the window and watching her stories. This is by far the most interesting thing she's done in ... ever, really.

Her presence has galvanized the users of the chat forum to figure out the mystery of the disappearances. So many people are in the chat helping in any way they can. The information dump was almost too much at first. She quickly learned that the mystery was happening all over the world, but mainly focused on the southeast United States, in particular the Atlanta area. Everyone is convinced the phenomenon is coming from the city, or at least nearby.

Tons of conspiracy theories popped up over the hours and hours she's been talking to these people. Her favorite one is the government has poisoned everybody with fluoride in the water for so long that the entire population has started hallucinating. The Fluoride Truthers are fond of repeating "think about it!" as if that proves anything.

Serena knows people are scared and grasping at straws, and that's fine. Through all the noise they've started to whittle down and isolate potential starting points. Her body desperately wants her to lie down and take a nap, but she stubbornly refuses.

She hears a sharp TSK behind her and turns to see Nurse Marilyn standing there with her hands on her hips. "Are you still at that thing?"

"We're so close, Marilyn," Serena says. She tries not to rub her exhausted eyes but finally relents.

"Oh, I bet you are," Nurse Marilyn says. "Close to a coma or a heart attack. Or your eyes falling out from looking at that screen. Come on, let's lay  down."

"Just a little bit longer," Serena says. "There's no time for me laying down."

Nurse Marilyn walks over and rubs Serena's back. "I'm sure the world can wait for you to lie down and take a nap so you can get some energy back."

"I'm not so sure it can, my dear Marilyn."

"Aren't we sure of ourselves?" She gently tugs on Serena's arm. "Come on, just for a little while."

Serena is extremely tired and going to sleep does sound amazing right now. However, there's always the chance she'll wake up and the hospital will just be gone. Or the whole city. Or her, for that matter.

But she's so tired.

Just as she's about to relent, there's a DING from the laptop. She's gotten an email, and she suspects she knows what it is.

"Wait!" She pulls away from Nurse Marilyn's grasp and clicks over to her email. Sure enough, it's a message from a user, whatllyahave324, who has compiled all the data to try and isolate a starting point for the disappearances.

Serena opens the attachment. It's a picture of a map. whatllyahave324 has taken all the data from all the users in the chat forum and isolated the incidents with the heaviest amount of disappearances. A few hours ago they realized there was almost a circular pattern to everything and they may be able to pinpoint an epicenter.

It's even better, or worse depending on the way you look at it, than Serena even imagined it would be. It's not just a circle pattern, it's a spiral, like a Slinky being pulled apart. The end of the spiral points straight towards the little town of Fairburn, just off of I-20 out of town.

"Holy hell," Serena says.

"What is that?" Nurse Marilyn says.

"It's ... everything. That's where it started I think. Whatever is causing this ... I think it's in Fairburn."

She responds to whatllyahave324, telling them she's headed to Fairburn and to join her if they would like.

Serena stands up, her burning eyes and tired fingers instantly an afterthought. It was time to do something.

"Fairburn? I don't think so," Nurse Marilyn says. "How exactly do you plan on getting there?"

"I have no clue. I'll walk if I have to."

Nurse Marilyn laughs and pulls Serena, firmly but gently, over to the bed. "Ok, joke's over. Time for a nap, seriously. You're having delusions of grandeur here."

"I have to go out there and see what's happening," Serena says, pulling away from Nurse Marilyn. "This is important."

"Serena, you know they will not let you out of this hospital. Just send someone else. I'm sure your friend you emailed will be able to handle it for you. Ask them to keep you updated."

Serena shakes her head. Her whole body feels re-energized. "No. It has to be me. I'm leaving."

She walks out, still dressed in her hospital gown. She has some clothes tucked away but there's no time to change now. Nurse Marilyn walks up behind her and grabs her arm again, a little more firmly this time.

"Now cut this out," Nurse Marilyn says. Nurse Lisa is at the station and sees the commotion. She heads over to help. "You need to come lie down."

"What's the trouble?" Nurse Lisa says.

"The trouble is you need to let go of me and let me leave," Serena says.

"Is she having an episode?"

"She wants to leave the hospital to investigate this disappearances thing," Nurse Marilyn says. "But she's going to work herself up into a tizzy and hurt herself."

"Marilyn is right, Serena," Nurse Lisa says, grabbing Serena's other arm. "Let's get you back and safe and sound, ok?"

"No!" Serena struggles but their grasp is firm. "You don't understand, I have a real chance to help!"

"It doesn't matter, Serena, you can't go anywhere in your condition."

Serena finds some excess energy tucked away and resists being pulled into her room. She supposes she could just wait and try and sneak out later, but it's the principle of the thing. It's her life, why can't she leave if she wants to?

Another nurse runs up to help, pushing Serena's back to try and force her into her room.

"Let me go!" Serena says.

"This is for your own good!" Nurse Lisa helps the third nurse push Serena from the back. Serena can feel the excess energy draining.

Then it happens: Serena is happy to hear the booming voice of her angry mother for the first time in her life. It thunders throughout the cancer wing, quite possibly through the entire hospital. Later, Serena swears she heard the windows rattle.

"Unhand my daughter this instant!" Hela says, storming down the hall.

The nurses freeze. Serena grabs onto the door frame as she suddenly jolts forward from not being shoved into her room. She turns and smiles at her mother.

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?" Hela says, getting in the nurses' faces.

"Serena is trying to leave," Nurse Marilyn says, exasperated. "She needs to get back in bed before she hurts herself."

"Looks like you were doing a terrific job of keeping her safe," Hela says. "It takes three of you to shove an emaciated girl into her room?"

"We weren't shoving—"

"Shut it." Hela turns to Serena. "Are you ok?"

"Yes," Serena says, her face red. She feels like she's back in elementary school. One time Hela had to pick her up at the principal's office for knocking out a boy who kept pulling her hair. Hela screamed at the principal for hours, wondering why she was in trouble and the boy wasn't.

"You want to leave?"

"Yes, I have proof that—"

"Get some clothes and let's go."

"Hela, I really don't think that's—" Nurse Marilyn says.

"I really don't think I care what you think," Hela says, waving at Serena to hurry up and go. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter thus far, but please keep your mouth shut now."

Serena stifles a confused laugh as she rushes into her room and gathers up some clothes. Instead of changing in her room she gathers them up in her arms and carries them out. "I'll change in the car."

Hela nods. "Come on." They walk over to the elevators, leaving the nurses to disperse after some irritated looks their way. The elevator doors open and they walk inside.

"That was very commanding," Serena says, staring at her mother.

"Don't be sarcastic to me now after I just helped you out."

"I'm not. I'm serious. Thanks, Mom." Serena kisses Hela on the cheek.

"You're welcome. So why did I just scream at those poor women keeping you alive? Are we going on an adventure?"

"You could say that," Serena says as the elevator dings. "Luckily, it's a close by adventure."

"Thank the Lord for small miracles."

There's a small crowd in the lobby of the hospital. As soon as they see Serena they run up to her and try to touch her. Serena recoils but instantly sees the pain on their faces and reaches back out to touch their hands.

"Whoa, get back, get back right now!" Hela says. Serena hears how shrill her voice is and realizes she's freaking out.

"It's ok, Mama," Serena says. "Just look at them."

Hela realizes Serena is right; these people aren't here to hurt her, just to see her daughter and to feel like they're being seen and heard. In that instant she's never been prouder of her daughter. And more terrified.

"Thank you for coming," Serena says to the crowd. Eerily, they don't answer back, just stare and reach out to touch her. Serena wishes they would say something. Maybe their tongues disappeared? She suppresses a shudder. "We have to go now. We're going to hopefully fix all this. Ok?"

Together as a unit the group nods and parts for her to leave. Hela tries not to look any of them in the eye as they walk past. She can feel their gaze burning a hole into Serena's face. A loving hole, sure, but a hole nonetheless.

Once they are safely outside, Serena lets her shudder run free. "Oh my God, that was so creepy."

"I thought it was just me!"

"Are you kidding?" Another shudder hits her. "We have got to put a stop to this. This is awful."

Hela leads her over to her car across the parking lot. As they approach it, Manny's car pulls around to the front. Ryu spots them.

"Hey, there she is!" Manny speeds up to catch them before they hop in Hela's car. Ryu leans out the window. "Serena!"

Serena looks around and sees Ryu hanging out of Manny's car. "What? Ryu?"

"Where are you going?"

"Fairburn!"

Manny stops the car and rolls down his window. "Fairburn? What the hell for?"

Serena waves excitedly. "Hey! You're the camera guy from the TV station, right?"

"Hey, yeah, Manny."

"Wait, how do you know each other?"

"Long story," Ryu says. "Why are you going to Fairburn?"

"No time to explain," Serena says. "Follow us, ok? I think I figured everything out. We're all meeting there."

Serena and Hela climb in.

Manny backs up to let them out and whips out his cell phone. "What the hell does Podunk-ass Fairburn have to do with anything?" he says as he dials the station.

"And who is 'we?'" Ryu says.

"Let me talk to Reed," Manny says to the WATL admin. "Immediately." Hela pulls out and drives away from the hospital. Manny follows. "Reed. Manny."

"Christ on a cracker, are you not coming in today either?" Reed says.

"No time to explain and I don't know everything myself. But we need to get a crew down to Fairburn, now. Serena Binn is headed there and says she's figured everything out. I have a feeling she's not bullshitting."

"Shit! Where in Fairburn?"

"I don't know, but I'm following them right now. It's not exactly a metropolis. Gotta go."

Manny hangs up and continues his slow pursuit of Hela's car.

On the other end, Reed rushes out of his office. "Gerald! It's go time!"

## Chapter 21

Lurlynn Manning didn't always want to go into nursing. She had much bigger goals in life, including traveling to the far reaches of the country ... then the far reaches of the planet ... then the far reaches of outer space.

Like most of us, though, Lurlynn's dreams became smaller. No, not smaller—more focused and realistic. Becoming an astronaut was out of the question due to her eyesight, plus she was terrible at math. Science was fun but geometry? Yuck. Traveling the world was expensive, and once she found the Internet she saw what was out in the country on the computer so there was no need to hit the road anymore.

Helping people was never her natural forte but the further she got into her nursing degree the more she realized she was good at it. Good at pretending, anyway; she suspects that most nurses don't care deep down about their patients, they are just adept at making them feel special and cared for. That's really anyone can ask for, really.

Living in Fairburn her whole life, though, was never in the plan. Mainly because the town was completely empty, devoid of any life at all. The only building ever constructed was the Golden Valley Nursing Home

that'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotright

The only building ever constructed was the Golden Valley

that'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotright

The only building ever constructed was the Golden Valley Nursing Home, for whatever reason. She often wondered why nothing else was built here but imagines it gives the residents peace and quiet. After all, it's just out here in the middle of this giant field. No smog, no honking cars, no screaming people, no crime, just rest and relaxation.

While she works, she often thinks of her mother's advice: no matter what you're doing, do it the best you can. If you make wrenches for a living, make the best wrenches you can make. If you fly a space shuttle, fly it the best you can. If you're taking care of folks, take care of them the best you can. Even on the best days this is tough to remember, but the mantra comes in handy.

Especially lately. So many empty beds and she is the only nurse at Golden Valley

that'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotrightthat'snotright

She is the only nurse at Golden Valley and has been for ... ever? At first this sounds like a dream job, but Lurlynn isn't one to just sit and hang out all day. Her days need to be filled in some way. Normally she would be checking on multiple patients, emptying bedpans, refilling medicine trays, straightening sheets, and so on. But there's just not much to do, even though it's just her.

She knows others must've worked at the nursing home at some point but doesn't know where they went. In the end it doesn't matter as she's got it handled. She does wonder why she was able to just wander in here and start working with no interview or vetting process, but it doesn't linger in her mind too long. After all, there were tasks to complete ...

... but not enough. Why is that?

somethingiswrongsomethingiswrongsomethingiswrongsomethingiswrongsomethingiswrong

No matter, time to get to work. She's already checked on Daddy. He needed to be flipped (what she calls making sure he lies in different positions so he doesn't get bedsores) but his diaper was empty and he quickly dozed off after she closed the blinds. So now it's time to pace the halls and be sure everything else is spick-and-span.

After all, do it to the best of your ability. Scan the hallways. Check those empty rooms. Change the sheets even if they don't need it. There might be another guest at some point in the future. She figures there were so many other people in here at some point and wonders how it is so full of life and energy.

She wishes she could go out for a burger or something but the closest restaurant is who knows how far away. Another meal with the food from the Golden Valley kitchens it is. No cook to speak of

somethingiswrongsomethingiswrongsomethingiswrongsomethingiswrongsomethingiswrong

No cook to speak of so she whips up a sandwich for herself, knowing she has several hours before Daddy wakes up. Maybe she'll take a walk around outside. Maybe she'll watch a movie, one of the two or three sitting around this place. Maybe she'll scribble on the walls so she'll have something to clean up later.

Whatever it is she does next, her mother would be proud to know she will do it to the best of her ability.

## Chapter 22

I-20 isn't the most exciting road in the world but on this journey it could have its own documentary series. Manny and Hela routinely have to drive on the shoulder or in the grass to avoid all the obstacles in their way. Abandoned cars litter the road while some major pieces of asphalt have simply vanished. Manny is sure his tires will pop and they'll end up walking the rest of the way.

He remembers making the trip down to Fairburn but can't remember why in the world he would come down this way. As far as he knows there's nothing here to see and never was, just another dead town in Georgia. He swerves to avoid another abandoned car.

The closer they get to Fairburn the worse it gets. Serena wonders if people simply vanished out of these cars or if some of them were left out of sheer panic. She imagines at least a few people thought it was the apocalypse or the rapture or something and took off for the hills.

The little caravan reaches the Fairburn exit. Hela's car stops and Manny pulls up next to her. She gestures towards the ramp and Manny sees how structurally unsound it is. He drives to the other side to see the entrance ramp but it's the same story.

"Over there," Ryu says, pointing to the eastbound side.

Manny drives over the median, careful not to get stuck. The entrance ramp is also destroyed but the exit ramp seems safe. Well, "safe." He waves at Hela to follow him over the median. She does so and pulls up next to him.

"I don't know about this," Hela says.

"It should hold," Manny says. "I think."

"It'll be fine," Serena says. "We don't have a choice anyway."

Manny goes first. There are several parts of the ramp missing, but there's enough here to navigate around. About halfway up he sees someone sitting in the grass on the hill, legs crossed, back slouched, just staring off into the distance. If he had time to investigate, he would find that the serene gazer is dead.

Instead, he focuses on the road, worried about dying himself. Along the way he makes a tiny joke to himself about never complaining about potholes again. Ryu looks at him as Manny laughs under his breath but decides not to bother him.

They reach the top. Manny and Ryu get out and take a deep breath. They wave to Hela to follow.

"See?" Serena says. "Just take it slow."

"Great," Hela says, starting the journey up the ramp.

It starts off ok. They make it about halfway, slowly going around holes in the road and avoiding other cars, following the path Manny drove. They see the person staring off into the distance. Serena knows he is dead but doesn't say anything to Hela.

Suddenly, Hela is screaming. "Why did I do that? Why did I do that?"

Confused, Serena looks around and realizes they're stuck. The car lurches forward as the structure underneath them buckles. She tenses and waits for the car to tip over, but it settles where it is.

"Why did I do that?"

"Mom!" Serena says, grabbing Hela's arm. "Just calm down!"

"I knew it wasn't there and I drove there anyway! It's my fault!"

Through the windshield, Serena sees Manny and Ryu running towards them. She gently turns her mother's face towards her. "Listen. You didn't do anything. The road beneath us vanished. You couldn't do anything."

Hela sounds like she's about to hyperventilate. The car lurches again, making things worse.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here," Serena says.

The car is tipping to the right so they have to climb out of the driver's seat. Manny and Ryu reach the car and help Hela out. Serena climbs over but the car lurches again.

"Easy, easy," Manny says. Hela is safely out of the way. He reaches over to help Serena. The car groans.

"You got it. You got it." Manny gently grabs Serena under her armpits and hoists her out of the car. The car lurches and settles again. Manny sets Serena down and they back away.

"Sir, sir!" Hela says to the gazing man.

"Don't bother," Serena says.

"Ah, yeah," Ryu says, seeing what Serena sees. "Nothing we can do there."

The four hurry up the ramp and climb into Manny's car. He whips it around and follows the signs to downtown Fairburn ...

... which, unfortunately, turns out to be a bit of a joke. Manny briefly wonders if someone switched the word "downtown" with "giant empty field" and he just missed the press release. It's nothing but dirt and patches of grass and doesn't look anything else was ever here. Deep in the back of his head he knows it's likely because of The Disappearing but he can't wrap his head around it. There is just nothing here.

Serena and Ryu can see the emptiness for what it is, though. They see the cute little town that used to be Fairburn. They see the residents who are now nowhere to be found. They hear the cries and laughter and business and arguing that went on here every day. Now this patch of destroyed land is all that's left.

Except, way in the distance, is a lone building: Golden Valley Nursing Home.

"There," Serena says. "That has to be it."

Hela shudders. "Are you sure, Serena? If you looked up the word 'foreboding' in the dictionary ..."

"Yeah," Ryu says. "That's it. It might as well have a glowing sign."

"Here we go," Manny says, pulling his car off the road and driving towards the lone building in the middle of the field.

Much to their surprise, they're greeted by another car and a waving, smiling man with a blue bandana on his head. He clasps his hands together and shakes them in delight as they pull up.

"Welcome!" He spies Serena getting out of the backseat. "And there she is." He reverently bows to her and takes her hand. "Miss Serena. Thank you for coming."

"Oh, are you whatllyahave324?" Serena says, shaking his hand.

"Yes, but that's not my real name. Ha, of course it's not!" He leans back and laughs a full-throated guffaw. "I'm Doug. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Doug. These is my friend Ryu, my mother Hela, and ..."

"Manny." He shakes Doug's hand. "Can you ... ?" He points to the field around the nursing home.

"Yep." Doug takes the blue bandana off revealing a fuzzy bald head. "I'm one of the Bald Brigade. Still a little ashamed of my condition so I hide it. I'm not brave like you," he says to Serena.

She blushes. "Garbage," she says. "You're here with us right now in the middle of this insanity. I don't know what else would be braver than that."

Doug puts his bandana back on. "I haven't been in yet. Too scared. But maybe we can all go in together."

"Hold that thought," Manny says. He walks off to the side and calls the station. "Reed, where do we stand? Who's coming?"

With Manny distracted, Ryu pulls Serena to the side. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure, of course," she says. "Excuse us for a second, Doug."

"Ok!" He walks over to Hela. "So, what's it like being Miss Serena's mother?"

"Oh, boy," Hela says. "Where to begin."

"What is it?" Serena says.

"It's Jay. He ..." He doesn't know to say it.

"Left. He left us."

Ryu nods and chokes back tears. It's finally real to him now that he has a second to realize it. Serena hugs him tight.

"He was always going to, wasn't he?" Ryu says.

"He was. In this way or another. Some people, they ..." She remembers Jay's first day coming home from work after they started living together. He was there for about an hour before he said he needed to go out again. She figured he would settle down. He didn't.

"They just don't know how to get past themselves," she says. It doesn't feel like the right thing to say but she can't think of anything else to say.

"I know he was an asshole, especially to you," Ryu says. "But we knew each other so long."

That about covered it. They knew each other so long. Serena rubs his back. She doesn't have to say anything and Ryu doesn't want her to.

"Got it? Yeah. Tell them to be careful. Go around if they have to." Manny hangs up. "The rest of my crew will be here any minute," he says to the group. "We'll be going live."

"What are we supposed to do, exactly?" Hela says. "Has anybody thought this through? Serena?"

"You know as much as we do," Doug says. "Now that we know it's probably all happening inside that building. I have no way to know anything else."

"Should we all go in?" Ryu says. "Or like, in teams? Should we call the cops or something instead?"

Manny hears the hum of a WATL news van and turns to see it coming across the field, dust billowing behind it. Go time.

"Nah," Manny says. "We have somebody better than the cops."

The news van skids to a halt and blows dust and dirt all over the little group. Anne leans out of the driver's side window. "Sorry!"

Gerald hops out of the sliding door, makeup on, game face steeled, all ready to go. "Camera's ready, Manny." He holds out a fist for Manny to pound. Confused, Manny pounds it. Anne laughs and shrugs when Manny gives her a look.

"Hello, everyone, Gerald Trimmings, WATL Action News!" He walks around and shakes everyone's hand. "Serena!" He gives her a soft hug. "Great to see you again. You too, ma'am." He politely shakes Hela's hand.

"What?" Manny asks Anne. "Huh? He called me Manny?"

"Some big life change. We sang showtunes on the way over here, Manny. SHOWTUNES."

"I think I'm more scared of that then this building." He looks over at the ominous front door. "Nah, I can't even joke about that."

He hops inside the van and grabs his trusty camera. The weight of it immediately makes him feel at ease. Now he has some control over the situation, something to do. Standing around was a nightmare. Now, it was go time.

"Sure you're down for this?" Anne says.

"Oh yeah," Manny says, hoisting the camera. "We're live, right?"

"You're damn right we are," Gerald says, straightening his tie. "This is the big one! I told you it was coming, didn't I? I knew it would be a world changing event like this one that would send us to the stratosphere. And here we are."

"Let's get to it, then," Hela says, walking over to the front door. "We don't have all day. The world doesn't, at least."

She pulls on the front door of the Golden Valley Nursing Home. It creaks open a bit.

"Mom, wait ..." Serena says.

Hela peeks her head inside. "Looks like the coast is clear."

In his ear he can hear Reed shouting at him that they're live. Time to go. Gerald rolls his finger in a circle at Manny. Manny nods and cuts the camera on.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is Gerald Trimmings with WATL Action News. We are here risking life and limb here in Fairburn where Serena Binn, who as many of you know was interviewed on this subject just yesterday exclusively on WATL, has possibly found a cause for everything that's occurred lately. As you can see, Fairburn has virtually disappeared off the map."

Manny spins around so the viewers at home can see the devastation. He wonders if everyone, like him, just remembers Fairburn as an empty field like this, at least as far back as he recalls. It might be different for people who lived here. But maybe not.

It made his head hurt so he stops thinking about it. The camera comes back to Gerald.

"This lone building, Golden Valley Nursing Home, is all that is left of the quaint town that stood here. We are now about to enter the building. There is no telling what we will find. Please be advised this is not for the faint of heart—"

In the background of the shot, Serena walks through the front door, accompanied by Hela and Doug. Anne waves to get Gerald's attention. He turns and sees what's going on.

"Oh! Looks like we're going in now folks. This is live television for you. Stand by!"

Back at the station, Reed watches with virtually everyone in the building. He feels a little helpless in that he wishes he could be out there to help with such a big story, but he trusts his talented team to get the job done.

"Be careful in there," he says to Gerald through his ear mic.

Through the live feed, they watch as the little group enters the building. Gerald dramatically whips the door open and Manny moves the camera in like he's in a war documentary. Everybody inside the station gasps as they see ...

A nursing home hallway. It's dark, so Manny flips on the lights. There are crude paintings on the walls in varying degrees of artistry.

"Here we are inside the Golden Valley Nursing Home," Gerald says. "Here we see on the walls some interesting artwork ... could be professional, could be amateur, who knows the real story?"

Anne walks over and inspects the paintings. Each one is signed with a different name. Most are paintings of still life, oranges and such, while others show trees and other sights from outside the home. A few are more expressionist, mainly splotches of paint, marker, and crayon. One particularly nightmare inducing painting is a swirling hurricane of color, as if the artist's arm got stuck in a never-ending painting loop.

"These are paintings by the residents," Anne says. "They framed them like they were professional paintings. That's really sweet."

"Indeed," Gerald says. "Clearly the residents of Golden Valley are very well cared for. Perhaps we'll get to speak to them."

They reach the nurses station. There are several half-empty glasses of water on the counter. A small TV in the corner plays some movie Gerald can't recognize. Looks like giant buildings are moving around while everyone is asleep? He turns to the camera.

"Here we see the remains of the nurses station. You can see the half-empty cups of water, unfinished—why? Did their owners vanish? Will anyone ever drink them again? And what is this strange film that plays on this TV? Clearly these artifacts are from another time that we'll never understand."

"Artifacts?" Reed says, shaking his head. "Come on, don't get cute. Go check out some of the rooms." He chomps down on his cigar, trying not to show how nervous he is for everyone inside that damned place.

Manny moves over to one of the rooms. Down the hall he sees Serena, Hela, and Doug check out a different room. He nods at them and Doug shrugs, indicating there's nothing in there. Gerald walks in front of the camera.

"This room appears to be empty, as are others in the building," he says, walking inside the room to inspect what's left. "Bedsheets tucked into beds. Empty flower vases cleaned out. A birthday card here and there but not much else." He takes a big whiff. "Also, a strong scent of cleaner, bleach. Someone is undoubtedly still here tending to the place."

Gerald motions for Manny to follow him down the hall to another room. He doesn't want to admit it, but this place is getting to Manny. There's hardly any sound except for their footsteps. Everything is so sanitized. He supposes he would be freaked out in here if it was full of old people and nurses, but the situation certainly didn't help anything.

He pauses. From somewhere he hears a noise. Not one of the group, as the others are checking out other rooms. From way down the hall. Was it a moan? Could've been the building settling. A cough? Some sort of machine? Was there somebody still here in this godforsaken place?

He imagines some grotesque, hideous alien, sitting in the far room down the hall, crouched, waiting for one of them to walk by and grab them with its slimy tentacles--

Back at the station, the crew watches as the camera suddenly shakes around furiously as Manny cries: "WAH!"

"What is it? What the hell happened?" Reed says.

Gerald turns to investigate. Sheepishly, Manny waves. "Sorry, sorry."

Anne had grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged it. His heart in his throat, he keeps walking down the hall. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry!" Anne says. "I'm just so freaked out!"

"You don't have to apologize to me. Just no more heart attacks."

She squeezes his shoulder. "Got it. That's a promise."

All the activity has made Serena a bit woozy but she refuses to stop. She also refuses to show any sign of weakness as she knows Hela will call the whole thing off. She can almost see her mother physically carrying her out of this place draped over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The thought makes her giggle.

Doug notices her laughing. "Look at you. So amazing. Laughing in the face of abject terror and danger."

"Well, when you put it like that," Serena says.

"Sorry."

"It's ok. You're right. This is pretty abject." She watches as she adjusts his bandana. "What did you do before all this?"

"No clue," Doug says. "The cancer has all but wiped out most of my memory. Can't remember a thing. And anyone who could tell me about my previous life ... well ..." He trails off. Serena knows why.

"Apparently you were good with computers, right?" Serena says.

"Yeah! That was a nice surprise. Life sure is funny."

"How do you stay so upbeat, Doug?" Hela says. "Cancer, memory loss, and now all this ..." She sees Serena's face and stops talking.

Doug isn't fazed, though. "Why not?"

The group walks into another room, one previously occupied by an old lady by the looks of the pictures and other items around. Serena picks up a small picture on the dresser. It shows a young woman, dressed in her blue high school graduation gown, standing next to a wrinkly white-haired woman. She checks the back and it says "Stacy, High School Graduation." As she replaces the picture she wonders if Stacy is out there somewhere or if she disappeared.

"This could be my own mother," Hela says, looking around at the previous occupant's last remnants of life. "This is too much for me."

"You can go, Mom," Serena says. "I'll be ok."

"You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm just saying, it's hard to think about. I wonder if she ever got any visitors."

"Looks like she was loved, at least," Doug says.

"And what do we have here—more artifacts from days gone by," Gerald says as he and the others walk in.

"Nothing here of note," Serena says.

"Then let's keep going," Gerald says. "The story is here somewhere. The REAL story. And we're going to find it!"

Again the noise. Manny feels like he's the only one who can hear it. Now he knows it's not just his mind playing tricks on him as he hears it again and again.

"Ok, am I the only one—"

"That noise," Hela says. "That's an oxygen tank."

Gerald turns to the camera, playing up the moment as much as possible. "Someone is here, ladies and gentlemen. They could be the key to all this. Let's go take a look, together."

The noise is coming from the room at the end of the hall. The group huddles together and makes their way towards the door. Doug reaches it first and opens it.

"Oh ... huh," he says. He steps back so the others can see in.

An ancient old man lies in bed, his chest rising with the oxygen machine Manny kept hearing down the hall. There's a lone balloon floating next to him, tied to his food tray. His eyes are rolled up inside of his head as he sleeps, his toothless mouth wide open. A few remaining hairs on his otherwise bald head stick straight up due to his position on the pillow.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have found what appears to be the building's lone occupant," Gerald says, trying to whisper.

Serena and Ryu immediately see the power surrounding this man. It's almost like when they can see the disappearances on or around a person, but in this man's case it's as if the weight of the world is upon him. Like a heavy burden has been lowering itself on him for his entire life.

They walk in and stand on either side of the man. Hela reaches for Serena but pulls her hand back, choosing to trust her.

"We may have stumbled upon something big here," Gerald says. "There is a man here, looks to be in his 90s at least, possibly 100 or more. You can see the lone balloon floating here like a lost traveler in space. How did it get here? Where did it come from? Who gave it to him?"

"Enough about the damn balloon," Reed says. "See if you can get him to talk."

"Right. Serena Binn will try and make contact."

"He's not an alien, Gerald," Serena says.

"He's just a scared old man," Ryu says.

"How do you know he's scared?" Gerald and Manny inch closer to get a better shot.

"We can just ..."

"See it around him," Serena says. She and Ryu look at each other and nod. "It's weighing him down somehow."

The old man creaks to life, his eyes peeling open. Cloudy eyes look around the room in confusion.

"Huh?" he says.

Serena smiles her warmest smile she can manage in the circumstances. "Hey there. How are you, sir?"

"Huh?" The old man squirms as his body reluctantly wakes up.

"What's your name?" Ryu says.

The old man stares forward, clearly trying to figure out what is going on and if these people are even real. It takes a minute for his gears to kick back up and start working again. A few times he opens his mouth to talk and everyone leans forward in anticipation.

Finally: "Do you have any water?"

"Water! He wants water!" Gerald says into the camera.

"There was some on the nurses station," Hela says. "I'll go grab it."

The old man smacks his mouth to show how thirsty he is.

"We're getting you some water, ok?" Serena says.

"Ok." The old man sighs heavily. He appears to be fully awake and cognizant.

"My name's Serena. Serena Binn." She gestures around the room. "These are my friends Ryu, Doug—"

"Are you the woman who gives me my ... uh ..." His gears get stuck and he taps his forehead, trying to jog the right words out.

"Your what, sir?" Ryu says.

"Hold on, it'll come to me. I just need a minute."

He continues to tap on his forehead. Everyone stands around awkwardly waiting for him to continue.

"What the fuck is happening?" Reed says. "What the fuck am I looking at?"

"Everyone is on pins and needles waiting for this mysterious man to tell us what's going on here," Gerald says into the camera. "Hopefully some delicious water will help him remember his name or any other useful information."

Hela comes back with a glass full of water. Ryu takes it from her.

"Here you are, sir," he says. The old man can't hold on to the glass so Ryu helps him drink it. It's too much at once and the old man coughs violently. "I'm sorry!"

"Oh ... too much ..." The old man continues coughing. He smacks his lips and waves for Ryu to give him more. "Slower."

Ryu gives him some more sips. Finally, he's satisfied.

"Nothing like some good, clean, cold water," he says. "Can you get me a sleeping pill? I've been having trouble sleeping again and boy am I tired."

"We'll see about that," Serena says. "Sir, do you know where everyone else in here went?"

"Huh?" He cups his hand up to his ear.

"Everyone's gone. In this nursing home. Do you know where they went? Do you have a nurse?"

"Nursing home? Huh? I don't know where it went."

Serena isn't sure how to continue. She's feeling light-headed and the pressure is getting to her. She looks around at her friends and finds nothing but frightened faces.

Except for Gerald. He puffs out his chest and waves two fingers at her to move. "I'll handle this." He and Manny walk up to the side of the bed as Serena takes a seat. Hela sits on the arm of the chair and rubs Serena's back.

Gerald clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and remembers to speak from his diaphragm so his voice is nice and booming.

"Hi there! Gerald Trimmings, WATL Action News."

"Huh?"

"WATL Action News! The number one source of news—"

"What is that now?"

Gerald turns to the camera with a small frown. "He appears to be quite deaf."

The old man laughs but it chokes him up and he coughs it out. "I'm not deaf, you fool," he says after his coughing fit. "You people just talk so darn fast. Slow it down, will ya?"

"Oh. Ok, let me try again." He turns back to the old man, making sure to speak slowly this time. "How long have you been in this place, sir?"

"Well, I'll tell ya, I was dropped off here I don't know how long ago. I had a perfectly fine place down near the ocean. I could hear the waves crash as I drifted off to sleep each night. Now you tell me, why did I have to come here to this old place where I can't hear or smell the ocean?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, sir," Gerald says. "Can you tell me just how old you are?"

"Why, that's an invasive question," the old man says. "But I'll answer it anyway. I'll be 109 next month. Do you happen to have a pain pill on you? I sure am in a lot of pain."

"I do not have any pain pills, sorry."

"Hmph."

"Maybe we can find one for you," Ryu says. "Who's been taking care of you here? There doesn't seem to be anyone else around."

"Well the thing of it is ... I think I had ... a son? But if I did, where did he go? That can't be right." The old man taps on his forehead again. "Seems to me he was much younger a long time ago. That can't be right at all. I guess I was wrong."

"What was his name? Maybe we can find him."

"That can't be right at all. Not at all."

The old man closes his eyes again.

"You're losing him, Gerald!" Reed says. "Shake him or something!"

"I'm not going to shake him!" He accidentally says out loud. "Ha ha, sorry folks, looks like our guest is having trouble staying awake."

"Sir, are you still with us?" Doug says, gently tapping the old man's foot. "Can you stay awake a little bit longer? We promise we'll find that pill for you."

Nothing. The old man breathes in and out, accompanied by the rushing sound of the oxygen machine. His eyes roll around in the back of his head.

"What in the blue hell is goin' on in here?"

Everybody in the room except the old man jumps out of their skin. The voice booms from just outside the door. They turn and see Nurse Manning standing there, mouth agape, holding a tray full of mashed up pills and water cups.

Gerald struggles to contain himself. "H ... hello! I'm Gerald Trimmings, Acti—"

"I don't give a damn who y'all are," Nurse Manning says. "Why y'all in this room bothering this poor man?"

"Are you aware of what's going on outside? In this town of Fairburn?"

"I'm aware of what's going on right now in this room," she says, walking up to the bed. She moves Gerald and Manny out of the way to walk up to the old man's side. "It's time for his medicine. He gets the aches somethin' awful and can't sleep. Get that camera and all this mess out of here. How'd y'all get in here, anyway?"

"We drove right up to the front door and walked in. Where is everyone else in this nursing home?"

"Just him and me, always just been him and me. Nobody else has ever been here. Except you, now."

The rest of the group look at each other knowingly.

"Ma'am ..."

"Nurse Manning, you can call me."

"Nurse Manning, do you know who this is?"

Something flashes across her face: brief recognition that something is wrong, none of this should be real, she doesn't know where she is, or what's going on, or why the world has flipped into a nightmare.

"Close up on her face," Reed says. Manny obliges. Reed can feel the rest of the world leaning into their television sets along with him.

The look on her face vanishes and she continues getting the pills ready. "Daddy."

"Daddy? He's your father?"

"No, course not," she says, laughing. "The name just fits. Don't you think?" She leans into the old man's ear. "Daddy, it's time for your pills!"

He creaks alive again. "Huh?"

"Pills! Medicine! Time to take 'em!" She shakes one of the little cups full of pills.

"Oh! That damn man is back again. Right up here." He taps his forehead.

"What man is that, Daddy?"

"That man that met me ... in Detroit. He met me there and told me it was my time. My turn. I didn't want it to be my turn, but I did it anyway because that's what you're supposed to do. That's just the way thing were, and I don't mean maybe."

"Those were the olden days," Nurse Manning says, nodding along with his story.

"You better believe it," Daddy says, coming fully awake again. "So I popped everything in my head that I was supposed to. But it's not my time anymore, and I'm just going to let it go. I couldn't possibly do this to anybody else."

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Ryu says.

"Daddy talks about this all the time," Nurse Manning says. "Always with talk 'bout 'that man.' It never makes much sense but he likes to talk about it so I let him." She looks around at all the people again. "Who are you people? You family? Where did you come from?"

"It's kind of a long story," Doug says. "Thank you for taking care of him so well. I'm sure he appreciates it so much."

"Mmm-hmmm. I bet he does. He don't get too many visitors so I'll allow it for now. Just don't keep him up too long. He has trouble sleeping."

She leaves. Ryu notices she never gave him the pills. They sit on his food tray in their little cups.

Serena stands up.

"Take it easy," Hela says.

"I need to do this." Serena walks over and puts her hand on Daddy's arm. "Mister ... um, Daddy, who is 'the man' you were just talking about? I'd love to hear that story."

Daddy taps his head again. "Well, I'll tell ya. That man met me in Detroit. Lo and behold was I in for it. All the responsibility I could handle, and boy I wasn't ready for it. And now I'm letting it go. He didn't tell me this place would let me go first. Now you tell me, how is that fair?"

While everyone else stares on in confusion, Serena can see it clear as day. She imagines Ryu and Doug are catching on as well. The picture is fuzzy and unclear, but it's like putting a puzzle of nothing but plain white pieces together. It seems impossible but when you start working from the outside in it can certainly be accomplished.

"What is he talking about?" Hela says. "These are just crazy old man stories. My grandfather used to ramble like this when I was younger."

"I don't think so," Serena says. "I think I know what he's saying. I believe I can see it."

Gerald points the mic at Serena. "Tell us what you see."

Serena begins.

## Chapter 23

The world is starving. Times are desperate. The man with the burned face told him to come here and wait.

Archie Clive, who one day will be known as "Daddy" as he lies rotting in a nursing home in a tiny town in Georgia, walks into the bar. It's a bustling, lively place, full of music, dancing, and general rowdiness. Not really Archie's speed, but this was the meeting place.

He looks around the bar, trying to find the man with the burned face. Nothing doing yet. He tells himself the man better show but deep down in the pit of his stomach his body is telling him it would be better if he didn't.

He orders a beer and takes a seat in the corner so he can watch the front door. Janie had told him not to come and they could figure something else out, but Archie felt like this was the best move. After all, he could always say no, right?

A woman walks over, giving him a once over with her eyes. He politely shakes his head and shows her his wedding ring. She shrugs and rejoins her group. Where was this kind of attention before he got married and couldn't buy a glance from a girl?

He swigs the beer. It was good to have a beer again, well, at least legally. Prohibition was probably the dumbest thing he'd seen in his time on Earth and most likely the dumbest thing he'll see in his lifetime. There is just no way to stop people from winding down after a long day in some form or fashion. Countries that cut that avenue off from folks tended to not last long, he figures.

Still no man. Archie starts to think Janie is right. This guy is a phony, a charlatan. The whole thing was too good to be true. Did he really expect some stranger with a fancy suit to take care of his money situation for the rest of his life?

The longer he sits and the man doesn't show the more foolish he feels. Normally Janie is the head-in-the-clouds type, full of beans and ready to tackle a new, crazy challenge, and Archie is the level-headed creature in the house. But this time it felt different, this time felt like a sure thing. They could afford to start a family, he thought. They could afford to eat real food, he thought.

He finishes up his beer. As the last bit goes down his gullet he feels a tap on his shoulder from behind him. He turns to see the man with the burned face.

"Where did you—?" Archie says.

The man motions for Archie to follow him to the back of the bar. Archie obliges, his heart in his throat. They walk past the bar and into the back offices. The burned man offers Archie a chair and he sits, nervously looking around to keep his bearings.

"You look apprehensive," the man says. His voice is gravelly and thick. Archie wonders if his vocal chords were burned as well.

"Well, yeah, wouldn't you be?" Archie says. "The whole thing is a little screwy, pal."

"I suppose it is." The man sits in a chair across from Archie and closes the door. "But I assure you, this is all real. The promises I made will be fulfilled."

"My wife, she ..." Archie says. He sees Janie's worried face in his mind. "She wasn't too keen on me coming here today. Said it was too dangerous."

The burned man laughs. It's just as gravelly as his speech and barely sounds like a laugh. "What isn't too dangerous? Living is too dangerous, Archie. It takes guts to get out there every day and not scream yourself to death. That's just life. The fact you're here proves that you might be ready for this."

"What is this, exactly?" Archie says, crossing his arms. "Actually, wait, before that—would we really not have to worry about money ever again?"

"Archie, if you take this on, money won't be a thing you'll talk about with your wife ever again," the man says. "You won't eat like kings and queens, but you'll eat. And in this day and age that's enough, yes?"

Archie nods. It would be enough. And they didn't really care to eat like royalty. Just to be able to live and have a normal life.

"How does it work? What do I need to do?"

The burned man stands up and grabs a ledger off the desk. "You see this?" He opens it up, revealing all the numbers and data inside. "So full of information. It has to go somewhere. Contains all the info from the bar. Without it, this place would fall apart."

He puts the ledger down and gestures around the room. "Do you think this place is any different? The street? All of Detroit? America? The world?" The man taps his head. "It all has to go somewhere. Otherwise, without it, everything would fall apart."

"And that would be my job? To keep it all from falling apart?"

"Not a job. More or less, though."

"Will I know the secrets of the universe, too? I imagine I'll be keeping track of all that as well?"

"No," the burned man says. "Don't be ridiculous. Just here, just your home."

Archie hears himself saying words and having this conversation but can scarcely believe any of it. He wants to burst out laughing but doesn't want to insult this guy. Mainly because he's scared of what he'll do.

"How did you end up with ..." Archie points to his face. "Is that a result of this job? Sorry, this not-job?"

The man rubs his scars. They run deep over his face with part of his lip burned off. "This was from ... before. There's a story but it's long forgotten by me and everyone else. Time will move on. The same will happen to you."

"This all just seems so fantastical," Archie says. He imagines Janie's face when he relays all this information. This guy is a nut. "I don't know how I'm supposed to believe any of this."

"How did you feel when the mill closed?" The burned man sits back down and stares deep into Archie's eyes. "What were your big plans?"

Archie leans back and crosses his arms again. "How ... ok, you could've gotten that from the mill records. That's not that impressive."

The burned man leans in closer. "What did you say to Janie after her latest miscarriage?"

Archie's mouth dries up. He feels his face empty of blood. Neither one of them had said anything to a single soul. Janie was too horrified and Archie had been in shock after the first one, much less the third.

"You ..." Archie says, trying to find the words. "That's not possible."

"I'll tell you what you said. You told her you would do anything to stop it from happening again, that you knew having no food in the house was doing this to her, doing this to you. You reassured her you would do whatever it takes to bring a baby into this world."

Archie can't feel his face. Those were his exact words. Janie's reply was ...

"Her reply was she didn't know if bringing a life into this horrible world was the right thing to do."

The burned man's eyes bore a hole into Archie's soul. Could this actually be for real? Will all their problems be taken care of?

"Yes, it's real, and yes, your problems will be taken care of," the burned man says. "You'll have different problems, of course, but isn't that just life?"

"That's just life," Archie says, not realizing he's talking out loud. "Yeah, yeah, let's do this."

"You sure you don't need to talk with Janie—"

"No, no, I'm in, pal," Archie says. He stands up and holds out his arms. "Lay it on me."

"Ok, then," the burned man says. Archie isn't sure, but he detects relief in his voice. "You got it."

The man turns to walk out of the office. "Whoa, whoa," Archie says. "What now?"

"You agreed. It'll come."

"That's it?"

"Yes. We're done."

"That's a bit anti-climactic."

The burned man laughs and turns back. He places his hand on Archie's forehead and squeezes. "The power of the planet is within you! Rejoice and be glad! Assume the awesome responsibility that should be held by no man!"

He shoves Archie's head back. Archie's vision swims and he closes his eyes to get his bearings back.

"I don't feel any diff—" the man is gone. He's alone in the bar's office.

The bartender walks by the office door and does a doubletake when he sees Archie. "Hey, buddy, what the hell are you doing back here? This is for employees only! Beat it!"

"Sorry," Archie says, running out of the office and the bar so he can go tell Janie all about his bizarre encounter.

It didn't happen all at once. Archie suspects his brain would've exploded if that were the case, like a water balloon getting filled with the ocean. Nobody could handle that kind of information all at once.

But it certainly was happening. He would walk down the street and just _know_ things. Things he otherwise would've never known.

He and Janie live in Ann Arbor, about an hour's drive from Detroit. It wasn't booming like Detroit but had enough going on so as not to feel like you lived in the middle of nowhere. It was also quiet enough to suit Janie's lifestyle.

About a week after his encounter with the burned man he decided to walk to the store. Mostly because they needed a few things for supper, but also because he just needed to clear his head. Ironically, the walk has the exact opposite effect.

As he passes by the Tom's Automobile Repair, out of nowhere he knows Tom is inside having a heart attack. He doesn't hear anything, he doesn't see anything, he doesn't even smell anything. He just knows it.

He also knows there's nothing he, nor anyone else, can do for Tom.

A sick wave of recognition hits him. Before he can react, he knows he will know about every other person's heart attack, and their cancer, and their broken bones, and their murder. He knows he will feel every sadness, every loss, every destroyed life.

Later, after the rest of the town is in his head, he tells Janie that he isn't sure being financially secure is going to be worth this. He doesn't feel like there's any way he can handle this for a day, much less the rest of his life. She assures him it will get easier.

It turns out she's right. When their son is born a year later, things do get easier. Suddenly the world seems brighter and easier to tackle. There's hope and love in the world again.

Then World War II starts. By this time Archie has the full brunt of the power inside his head. Again, there's nothing he can do about it. Just hold it in, observe, and hope for the best. Keep it together. Maintain the fragile stitching of the planet, of reality.

Korea. Vietnam. Iraq. Afghanistan. Every war comes and goes. Archie is there to know them all. Soon it all becomes routine, and that may be the worst part of all of this.

Then one day he wakes up. He's in a nursing room. Janie is long dead. His son has sold his oceanside home and abandoned him to waste away in a bed in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.

He waits. Years go by and he gets no visitors. The nurses take to him because he's such a sweetheart. But even that changes. Resentment sets in. More years fly by. Still no one comes.

He decides to let it go. Nobody is there to take over for him, but he doesn't care. It's time for everything to go. Just like taking it in, he couldn't do it all at once. The dam would burst. He had to let it go in drips.

Nobody would notice. And nobody would care. Just like him.

He now knows why he heard such relief in the burned man's voice when he told him he would take over. It's not that the job was too hard. Maintaining the stitches around reality was surprisingly easy.

It's that he didn't have to care anymore. The weight of devotion outweighs the burden of responsibility.

He can hear the gravelly laugh of the burned man as he begins letting the world slip from his mind.

## Chapter 24

Serena can't see anymore past that.

Daddy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, exhausted from reliving those painful memories again and again.

Everyone in the room, and through Manny's camera everyone in America and beyond, watches with mouths agape. It's just too far-fetched to be believed.

"The thing of it is," Daddy says, "I always said I knew I would be an old man when I couldn't walk. Not only can I not walk, I can't even clean my own ass anymore. Now what kind of life is that. What kind of place does that to a person?"

Silence in the room. Serena realizes everyone else is frozen.

"I know it seems bad, Daddy," she says. "But there's plenty left to remember and to hold on to. There's so much out there to see."

"I don't know what. Things have just made a mess of themselves. I'm tired of having all of this in my head. Nobody should have to do this."

"You've been here ten years," Ryu says. "That's a long time to be anywhere."

"It sure is." Daddy smacks his lips. Ryu gives him some more water. "I've forgotten what fresh air smells like. I haven't felt real sun on my face in so long."

Gerald walks forward. "Sir, from what Serena here told us, the man with the burned face handed this power over to you?"

"I should've never gone to Detroit, and I don't mean maybe." Daddy tries to readjust in the bed but his arms are too weak. "Ooh, where is that nurse? I haven't seen her in so long."

"Would you be able to pass it on to someone else?" Gerald says. "The same way the man with the burned face did to you?"

"Huh?"

"Everything in your head," Serena says. "Would you be able to pass it on to someone else? Free you of the burden?"

Daddy's eyes well up with tears. "Now who would want to do that? I couldn't do that to somebody. Nobody would want this, and I don't mean maybe."

"Sure they would. Someone out there." She gestures to the camera. Back at the station, Reed involuntarily waves and then laughs at himself.

"I don't know why. It's all just pain and death. And loneliness. My word, the loneliness. I sure could go for a pain pill about now, do you have one?"

"It's not just pain," Hela says. She walks over and puts her arm around Serena's waist. "There's a lot of love and beauty out here too. A lot worth living for. I ... it's taken me a while to realize that myself, Daddy."

"Yeah! Hey, did you know there are cars that drive themselves now?" Doug says. "They're kind of everywhere. Well, of course you know that, you know everything." He turns to the camera. "Actually, if anyone out there works on them, I'd love to go into the field—"

"Let's concentrate on one thing at a time," Gerald says, annoyed.

"I still remember the first time I ever rode in a car," Daddy says. It's a good memory so he relaxes. "What a feeling. Wind in your face like nobody's business. Bugs, too, but that was ok, because you were just flying. If I could just go for a drive again ..."

Everyone looks at each other. It's the first time they've had any semblance of a plan. Gerald turns to the camera.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to see if we can escort this man, this Daddy, out of the nursing home. Stay tuned."

"Like hell y'all are." Nurse Manning is back. Her face is smeared with some sort of jelly and she looks half-crazed. "This man is my responsibility. You're interferin' with that. You people need to leave."

Hela looks down and sees Nurse Manning is carrying a knife. A sharp one. "Whoa, whoa," she says, moving to block the nurse from the others. "Let's calm down now."

Nurse Manning waves the knife around. "You calm down. I told y'all to leave earlier and you're still here. Why are you here? Why are you here?"

Doug puts his hands up and walks over to the doorway. "Ma'am, thank you for handling this for so long, but we need to take Daddy out of here. For everyone's sake."

Nurse Manning moves the knife in his direction. "Don't move. You need to leave."

"We can't do both of those things at the same time!"

While Doug and Hela distract the nurse, Ryu grabs the nearby wheelchair and opens it up. He nods at the others to help him.

Hesitantly, Gerald walks over to try and help pick up the old man to carry him over to the wheelchair. He and Ryu try to get a good grip to no avail.

"Under other circumstances I might be able to pick him up myself," Gerald says. "It's just that with everything going on, going to the gym—"

"Jerry, come grab the camera," Manny says.

"Huh? I'm the reporter, not ..." Manny shoves the camera at home. "Ok, ok, I got it." He does his best to aim it at the action. "How do you focus this thing?"

"I switched it to automatic," Manny says. He leans down and wraps Daddy's arm around his shoulders. "Ready, sir?"

"Oh, sure," Daddy says. Manny isn't entirely sure he even knows what's happening, but of course this man knows more than Manny ever will.

Ryu holds the wheelchair steady. Manny lifts Daddy up. He's surprised to find that despite being the man keeping reality together by the sheer power of his mind, he weighs very little. He can feel Daddy's brittle bones just through his paper-thin skin.

Manny gently lays the old man in the wheelchair. Ryu straps him in.

Nurse Manning waves the knife around dangerously, blocking them from the doorway. "I ain't never let a patient down in my lifetime and I never will! This is unacceptable behavior!"

Serena leans down to whisper in Daddy's ear. He nods. Nurse Manning never had a knife.

"Please let us pass, ma'am," Doug says. "We will bring no harm to this man. In fact, we want to do exactly the opposite of that."

Nurse Manning reels backwards, looking at her hands. "What was I doing? I was doing something. Wasn't I?" She looks up at Doug and Hela, a panicked look on her face. "What was I doing?"

"You were letting us go," Hela says. "We're taking our friend out for a nice drive."

"Oh, yeah," Nurse Manning says. "That's right. I knew I was doing somethin', I just couldn't remember what."

Hela and Doug motion for Ryu to push Daddy out of the room. Nurse Manning wanders down the hall, completely out of sorts and unsure of where she is. The knife vanishing seems to have broken her.

Out in the hall they can see she's been "painting" the walls. As they roll Daddy out of the room Nurse Manning walks over to a giant spot where she splattered junk everywhere and begins cleaning it. The smell of bleach and other cleaners is overpowering.

"Gotta keep this place spick-and-span," she says. "Another guest'll be here in no time."

"Poor woman," Serena says.

"Ready for your ride?" Gerald says to Daddy.

"In a car? I'm not dressed for it, am I? You have to be dressed up fancy to ride in a car."

"We'll stop by and get you some nice threads. Whatever you want."

"Oh! Well, ok, young man, you better watch out. I'll have your job before you know it."

Gerald laughs. "I don't doubt it at all, sir."

They reach the door to the outside world.

"The feel of sun on my face," Daddy says. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Manny looks back down the hallway. He feels like they forgot something, left something behind. He can't quite place it, but it's a nagging feeling that won't go away. Everyone else is ecstatic to be leaving, but he wants to stay. He has no idea why.

"Let's get out of here," Manny says. "This place ..."

"You got it," Ryu says. He marches forward. Serena and Doug push the doors open so he can roll the wheelchair through. The sunlight is blinding as they walk out into a world of uncertainty.

## Chapter 25

The events of the previous day were already fading for Manny. He's amazed how something so life-altering like finding out reality is held together by a crusty old man in a nursing home can become passé given enough time. For him it was enough time to walk through his door and feel how tired he is.

He plops down on his bed, feeling the cool sheets on his cheek. Sleep takes him. What feels like seconds later, although when he looks at the clock it's been several hours, there's a knock at the door. He peels himself off the sheets and goes to find out who it is.

Manny peeps through the peephole and sees a younger woman carrying a baby. For some reason he knows the baby's name is Telly but has no idea why. He just knows that's Telly as he's doing his familiar air-grab move.

"Hello," Manny says as he opens the door. "How can I help you?"

"Are you Manny?" the woman says. The baby, Telly, coos at him.

"Yes?" He waves at Telly. "I recognize this little guy. Telly, right?"

"Yeah." The woman barges into his apartment, clearly distressed. Manny doesn't say anything, just closes the door behind her. "Sorry to intrude. But I don't know what else to do."

"What's wrong? Is everything ok with your kid?"

"This isn't my kid," the woman says. "He's my nephew. But ... I don't know how. I'm Layla, by the way."

"Manny. Oh, you already knew that." Telly reaches his little fists out to Manny so he takes him. "Well, hello. How do we remember each other, huh?"

Layla sits down on Manny's bed, rubbing her face. "I've been up forever. I was at this house and there was Telly. I knew it was Telly. But I don't know how I got there or why I was there. Also, how is it my nephew if I don't have a brother or sister or whatever?"

She's not on the verge of a panic attack, it's taken hold of her and taken up residence for quite a while now. "Well, the good thing is he's safe and sound, right?" Manny says. Telly grabs his finger and Manny shakes it for him.

"Is this part of that disappearing shit? Did somebody vanish into thin air and I can't remember?" Layla lies down on the bed and covers her eyes. "The first address I found was yours. I didn't know where else to go."

"It's fine," Manny says. "I'm glad you came. Always good to see this little guy."

"What are we supposed to do?" Layla says. "What am I supposed to do?"

Deep down inside of him, in the pit of his stomach, behind all the sorrow and insanity of the past few weeks, Manny realizes something. He can feel it rising within him. It's the familiar numbing sting of loss. He has no idea why it's there and won't for some time. But he knows it will hurt, hard, for a long time, very soon.

"I think we'll figure something out," he says, poking at Telly's fat little belly. "That's what we all have to do, right? No choice."

He realizes Layla passed out. She wasn't kidding about being up for so long. He can't imagine being panicked like that for days on end. He sits down with Telly to let her sleep.

Telly continues his air-grabbing routine. Manny laughs at how familiar all this feels, relishing in the mystery of why that is for the moment. He has a feeling the answer will make him miserable so he chooses not to think about it.

Instead, he puts Telly down on the floor so he can crawl around. He picks up the bag Layla brought and finds a few of Telly's toys. His joints popping, he joins Telly on the floor as they play with plastic rings, colorful trains, and soft foam balls, realizing the real work is soon to come.

Ryu starts to head to his apartment but, on a hunch, stops by Jay's place first. He figures he'll see Edith walking around outside but is surprised to see an empty sidewalk. He walks inside and finds her on Jay's couch instead.

Jay's box-o-drugs lies open on the table. Edith has gone through quite a bit of it already. Currently she has the TV on full blast, staring at it like it's the most magical thing in the world.

Ryu walks over to her and snaps in front of her face. She looks at him but doesn't acknowledge him. He shuts the TV off.

"Hey ..." she says. She tries to sit up but can't quite make it.

"Edith, you need help," Ryu says.

"No ..." She manages to sit up this time. "You need to join me. Here." She pushes the box over to Ryu. "Something for everybody in here."

Back before this started Ryu would've jumped at the chance. Knowing what he knows now, though, there's no way he's touching that shit. No drug can trump this.

"Why are you in Jay's apartment?"

"Who?"

"Why don't you go back home, Edith?"

"Nothing there, either."

Ryu sighs and picks up the box-o-drugs. He scoops up all the residue and pills on the coffee table into the box and tucks it under his arm.

"Hey ..." Edith weakly reaches for it as he takes it. "That's mine ..."

"No, it's not," Ryu says. "It's nobody's. I'm getting rid of it. You should go home, Edith. It's time to deal with things and move on."

She stares at him and then lies back down, turning the TV back on. Ryu shakes his head and walks out. As he walks towards his apartment, he tosses the box into a dumpster. He packs up a few things at his place and heads back out to meet up with Doug.

There's a piece of lint on Serena's favorite shirt. She doesn't want to pack it before she gets it completely clean. But the damn lint won't come off.

"Don't worry about it," Hela says. "Aren't there more important matters to attend to?"

"Not at the moment," Serena says.

Hela shakes her head and rummages through the closet to try and find the right bag. "I don't think I have that suitcase anymore. Maybe there's something else in here you can take."

"Ok." Serena continues to pick at the shirt.

She remembers where she got the shirt from: Jay. He had given it to her as a present when he took a trip over to New Orleans. It's a goofy shirt with little kitty cats playing jazz instruments all over it. It says, "Cool Cats!" It honestly should not be an adult's shirt and that's why Jay got it for her. It's completely ridiculous.

But this damn lint won't come off. It feels like it's attached on a DNA level. It needs to be clean before it can go any bag, much less the bag she's packing to go help save the world.

"Where are you meeting up with them, anyway?" Hela says.

"They said they'd let me know."

"I heard they're taking a big van and headed up the coast first," Hela says.

"You mean we are. We are taking a big van."

"Right."

Hela finds a big green bag. It's not really a suitcase but it'll do. She hands it to Serena. "Do you need help?"

"I got it. I just need to clean this shirt first."

Serena stops messing with it and lays it down on the bed. A wave of confusion, exhaustion, and nausea hits her like a sledgehammer and she can't concentrate on anything else besides staying alive.

Hela watches her cope. She sits next to her on the bed and rubs her back. Serena waves her off so she just waits for it to pass.

"You sure you don't want to go back to the hospital?"

"That's the last place I want to go."

The wave starts to pass. Serena picks the shirt up, but Hela stops her from messing with it any more.

"You know what you did was very brave," Hela says, taking Serena's hand.

"You were there too."

"I didn't do a thing. You and your friends did. That took real guts. Nobody could blame you for not doing any more than that."

Serena nods. Hela pats her hand and walks into the bathroom. "You'll need an extra toothbrush. I have one down here somewhere."

Serena picks the shirt back up. She wonders where Jay and everyone else disappeared to. Did they really just vanish into nothingness? Or is there a recess in that old man's mind where they're stored and might be able to come back? Would they be the same if they came back? She supposes it's like death; there's no sense in worrying about it as it's out of your control anyway. It'll either happen or it won't. They're gone or they're not.

The lint finally comes off. She smiles and tosses the shirt over to the bag.

"I found it," Hela says from the bathroom.

"That's nice," Serena says. She falls back onto the bed and briefly dreams of Jay laughing as he gives her the silly cat shirt. Then her dreaming stops.

Gerald watches the news on TV as he sits with his mother, Manny, and that strange baby Manny brought over. Normally he wouldn't watch the news, but this was perhaps the biggest story in the world. One, he might add, he is no longer a part of.

"There they go," Manny says.

On the screen is the van Doug and Ryu rented to drive Daddy around in. The caption on the screen reads: "The Savior?" Gerald rolls his eyes at the absurdity of this but it's some local station in North Carolina's decision, not his or anyone at his station's decision.

Renee takes a final bite of her cupcake and sighs noisily. "Did everybody get enough?"

"Oh yes," Manny says. "I can't eat anything else. Thank you so much."

"You're quite welcome! Pidgit? How about you?"

Manny snickers. Gerald shoots him a look but laughs it off. "Yes, mother, I'm ok. Everything was great as usual."

"Thanks for having me over," Manny says.

"And miss meeting this cute little thing?" Renee says, squeezing Telly's chubby cheek. He squeaks. "Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, we don't get a lot of visitors. I'd like that to change."

"If you cook like this all the time I may never leave."

"There they are," Gerald says, pointing to the TV.

Ryu and Doug are on the screen, giving an interview to the local station about their trip with Daddy. For his part, Daddy sits in his wheelchair in the back, looking like the oldest hype man in the world. They've dressed him in snazzy clothes and he has a nice long scarf on to go with his oversized sunglasses.

"He did say he needed some road clothes," Manny says.

"Riding in style," Gerald says. He looks over at Telly. "So, tell me again about this young child?"

"Long story," Manny says. His face shows Gerald he isn't ready to talk about it. "I'm dealing with it." Gerald nods.

On the screen now is a feed of their trip to the old man at Golden Valley Nursing Home. They pause on a weird shot of Gerald and he makes a noise.

"I look like I'm passing gas," he says. "What kind of a rinky-dink place is this?"

"They're just jealous, Pidgit," Renee says, clearing the table of the dishes and other mess. "Maybe you can move up there and show them how it's done, huh?"

"Maybe I will."

The feed switches to a shot of Serena. The room becomes somber.

"That poor girl," Renee says.

"Doesn't seem fair," Manny says. "All that and then bam, she's gone. Doesn't get her moment in the sun.

"Not sure if that's true," Gerald says. On the screen is a group of people in their stop in North Carolina. They're all wearing shirts featuring Serena's smiling face.

The van moves on. A crowd waves to them as they leave the area. Daddy is seen in the back of the van waving back to everyone, a big smile on his own face.

The story then changes to a news item coming from overseas—some international trade debacle, hurt feelings, irritated leaders, the same old story.

"Nothing has changed," Manny says. "Who in their right mind would care about this now?"

"It's an afterthought. It was an afterthought while it was airing, honestly. Nobody will care soon. It'll be in the history books I guess. Probably not." Gerald shrugs.

"How can you just shrug?" Telly coos and Manny gives him his fingers to play with. "Aren't you Mister Get Famous? Get that recognition?"

"Whatever happens. Not much we can do about it. All you can do is try. Plus, I can't blame anybody. Would you believe it had you not seen that man for yourself?"

"Probably not."

"At least everything seems to have slowed back down," Renee says, walking over to the stove. The burners are all empty.

"True," Manny says. Telly toothlessly grins at him and he smiles back. "Maybe we have a chance now to get back on track."

"Oh, I believe we do."

"Would anyone like some tea?"

The feed jumps. The newscasters are standing around like they don't know what they're doing or who to cut to.

"This is so amateur hour! I should've gone with them to help with coverage. Just unbelievable."

"There's the Gerald I know," Manny says. "I hope you'll use that enthusiasm for our next assignments. I'd love some tea, Miss Trimmings, if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"Is it Earl Grey?" He can't remember why that's important.

"Oh, yes, of course," she says. "Nothing but the best."

"Yeah, the Gerald you know is definitely ready to cover the big factory inspection and the high school team rebranding," Gerald says. He pumps his fist in the air. "Go Dekalb Cougars!"

Telly joins him in pumping his fist and cooing. Gerald smiles at him.

"At least somebody's excited. Should be a good story, right kid?" Telly just smiles at him in response.

"Do you want tea, Pidgit?"

"Yes, fine, mother, thank you."

Renee picks the teapot off the back burner of the stove. She fills it up with water and fires up the burner.

"When did you get that fancy teapot, by the way?" Gerald says, not turning around.

Renee smiles. "I've always had one, Pidgit."

On Manny's lap, Telly laughs gleefully at something funny in the air, then calms down. The continuous air-grabbing ceases and he yawns a mighty yawn. His eyes heavy, he lies against Manny's stomach. Manny gently rubs his back.

Before he drifts off into slumber, Telly sees Renee staring at him lovingly. He coos and waves. She waves back before putting a finger to her lips and winking in solidarity of their shared secret.

Telly's eyes close and he dreams of Detroit.

