Space (Laws of Physics #2)(17)

“I didn’t know anyone would be here. We thought it would be just us. I . . .” She cleared her throat, then continued, “I hope we didn’t interrupt you guys or that us being here is an inconvenience to—to—to—uh, to anything. If you need us to go, we can leave.” Her voice had grown quieter as she spoke, sounding like her. Even at a near whisper, I heard every word as I stepped onto the little car.

Grinding my teeth, I spotted a backpack through the haze of red tinting my vision. I lifted it. I turned. “This yours?”

She shifted back a half step, her eyes still wide and searching. “Uh. Yes. Mine.”

I shoved the bag at her chest. Not hard, just enough to force her to retreat another step, clearing the doorway of the car so I could slide it shut, which I did.

She flinched, blinking at me through the glass, visibly astonished by my closing of the door so abruptly, and she either whispered or mouthed, “Abram.”

Didn’t matter. I gave her my back and started the car’s descent, though she was still visible in the reflection of the glass in front of me. But I couldn’t hear her with the closed door between us, and soon I wouldn’t be able to see her either.

So fucking stupid.

I shook my head at myself, exhaling slowly, lead in my chest, but relieved to have made it through this initial encounter without making an idiot of myself. Biting the inside of my lower lip, I stared at the snow beyond her reflection until she disappeared, feeling and welcoming the cold.

I’d caught Mona DaVinci’s testimony to Congress a few months ago. She’d been as eloquent as she’d been brutally brilliant, passing off cutting remarks as polite responses. Strangely, after watching her make fools of the most powerful people in the country, I felt like I’d also been torn to shreds. She was magnificent. She’d also been completely without emotion.

Still, even then, I doubted. I bargained with myself, I reasoned against the likelihood of such a scheme. Who would do that? And how dumb would I have to be to fall for it? Between the two possibilities of crazy or stupid, crazy seemed like the lesser of two evils. In pictures, Lisa looked like my Lisa. Yet, so did Mona.

But then, during an interview on the news several days after the testimony—I’ll never forget—Mona said, “I disagree. Senator Nevelson’s question was irrelevant and lacked a fundamental understanding of the scientific method, and then the wolves came.”

And then the wolves came.

Sometimes reality feels like a dream. Something happens, and it makes you question everything you know to be true, everything you take for granted about the world, about yourself. When that happens, your surroundings and interactions become likewise warped, like you’re watching those around you through a magnifying glass, or in high saturation color, and you can’t stop. You can’t make the world normal again, you know too much.

I’d spent two years doubting my sanity. Instead, I should have been doubting the fundamental goodness of people, my willingness to trust, and my intelligence.

And. Then. The. Wolves. Came.

So. Fucking. Stupid.

I stopped lying to myself, wishing for a different explanation, wishing my Lisa would somehow reappear and miraculously want to be with me. I stopped assuming people had good intentions. I stopped looking for the good. I stopped assuming the best, of anyone.

In that moment, I knew without a shadow of a doubt what they’d done. Nothing about that week had been real. Everything had been a lie.

But shame on me.

I should’ve listened to her the first time she told me to hold a grudge.





4





Electromagnetic Induction





*Abram*





Melvin reminded me of my uncle. They both gossiped. A lot.

No complaints. Melvin’s gossip served as a welcome distraction, as was the biting cold. It’s hard to remain focused on being pissed when your appendages are freezing.

Even better, Melvin didn’t seem to require any response from me. I let him talk, mostly about Aspen politics and recent local scandals, while we shoveled snow. Apparently, the garage closest to the main road, if you could call a one-lane mountain road a “main road,” housed a small snow plow and he liked keeping the area in front of it clear.

“It’s for emergencies,” he said. “It’s good to be ready, just in case we need to use it. And this path between the funicular house and the snow plow gets shoveled too.”

“Why don’t you just use the plow now? Clear this area?”

“Well, I wouldn’t use the plow at night.” He lifted the rim of his ski cap to scratch his head. “Yeah, I got those lights up there.” Melvin gestured to the high intensity work lamps on each of the garages, illuminating the clearing where we stood and the area around the three garages. “They’re bright, but I might not see a big branch or something like it. Plus, it uses diesel, which I don’t have an unlimited supply of, and I like the exercise.” His eyelashes were frosty, but he was grinning as he said this, his gloved hands resting on the pole of the shovel. “You ever want to come down and help shovel, just let me know. Think about it.”

I didn’t need to think about it, any excuse to leave over the next few days would come in handy. “I will. You come down here every day?”