Lights Over Cloud Lake Read online

  “Are you telling me you think there are UFOs in Cloud Lake?” I asked, trying to add a pleasant air to the question, as if I found the entire idea preposterous.

  He shrugged, clicking a pen repetitively. “All I’m saying is the sightings have been noted all around the region.”

  “Any video proof?” I asked.

  “Not that I’ve seen yet,” he said.

  “In this day and age?”

  “Do you want the job or not?” Barns was annoyed at my attitude, and I needed to do something different than the usual. Plus, a deep-seated part of me was salivating at the idea of a UFO piece. The more rational part was dreading the idea. It had been so long since I’d let myself think about Cloud Lake and that summer. Maybe it was time. Time to open up long-sealed boxes inside me.

  “I do, but isn’t this a little ‘trashy magazine’ for us? We like to do exposés on the environment, city pieces, and the odd political piece to gain visibility. Why Cloud Lake?” I asked.

  “Because we need something to stand out. We’re dying here, Eva.” Barns appeared five years older as he said this. His chest caved in as his posture slackened, and I saw the bags under his eyes, dark and heavy.

  “I… I didn’t know. Is there anything I can do?” It was a dumb question. I was one of ten regular writers at the online magazine. I had no ability to save it.

  “You can go to Cloud Lake and write a damned good story. Get a real take on it. Talk to the people. Find anyone who claims to have seen the UFO. I heard there may even be one or two of them who believe they were abducted. Work out the details. Do what you do so well and have done for the last five years. Only do it better than ever, because we need something to make the difference.” Barns seemed to notice he was melting into the desk, and he sat up straighter, putting his glasses on. He flipped open his laptop, and the old editor-in-chief came to the surface. He started typing, and I knew it was time to go.

  “When do I go?” I asked.

  “Saturday. Get your current piece finished and send it to me by tomorrow.” He didn’t look up, and I left him there, clacking away at his keys. Before I shut the glass door, he hollered at me. “Eva!” I peeked my head back inside, and he gave me a feeble grin. “I smell a book deal on this one. It could be just what you need.”

  A book deal? He was pressing his excitement a little too far. “I guess we’ll find out,” I said, and closed the door. Readers did like pieces like this. I should know. I’d devoured almost every article and book on the subject over the last two decades. There was no way Barns had obtained that information, though. He must have remembered me talking about Cloud Lake, but I couldn’t recall an instance when I would have brought the subject up with my boss. I was almost sure of that.

  Our magazine held half the office space on the fifth floor, and the center of the area was made up of cubicles. Barns had tried to give them a fancy edge, slate-topped desks over a classy hardwood floor, but they were still tiny boxes within the office, where you could hear every bit of your neighbor’s business whether you wanted to or not.

  I glanced to the edge of the space where the top two contributors’ private offices stood, and tried to push the jealousy away. I worked hard or harder than those two, but one was Barns’ nephew, and the other wore short skirts and tight tops, something I wasn’t willing to do to have an office. Harry noticed me staring through his glass palace, and he gave me a wave. Instead of acknowledging him, I pretended I hadn’t been looking his way, and flipped open my laptop.

  Karen was gossiping to someone on her phone about her bust of a date last night, and I grabbed my noise-canceling headphones, cranking some Chopin to drown the annoying woman’s conversation out. Maybe a few days out of town would do me some good.

  Hearing the words Cloud Lake had been enough to send jolts of fear into the soles of my feet, but now, only a few minutes later, a deep-down part of me was excited. I hadn’t been there since I was an optimistic fourteen-year-old girl, and after that last summer, I’d never managed to be that person again. Maybe it was my chance to reclaim what I’d lost. Isn’t that what we all strive for? If there was one thing all the therapy had taught me, it was that I needed to let the past go. Mine in particular was so bizarre, I’d had to go through three professionals before I found one who took me seriously.

  I closed my eyes as the song reached its crescendo and tried to focus on finishing my article. The second my fingers touched the keyboard, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun to see Harry there, smiling widely. He mouthed something I couldn’t hear, and I tugged the headphones from my ears.

  “Sorry, what’s that?” I asked.

  “I’m asking if you wanted to grab lunch.” Harry asked me to lunch once a week, and I always gave him the same answer. Today, I noticed a pleading in his eyes I hadn’t seen before, and the truth was, I knew he’d have confidential news on the magazine’s future. After seeing the concern from Barns, my curiosity was piqued.

  “Sure,” I answered, getting a surprised eyebrow lift in return.

  “Great. Let me grab my jacket,” he said.

  It was the middle of summer, and Harry was collecting his blazer. The guy never left home without one, and I had to admit it was a good look for him. I watched him walk away, and I wondered why it was I hadn’t accepted his advances before. It wasn’t as though I had a line-up at my apartment door, pleading for dates.

  One of the biggest cities in the world, and it felt like the dating pool was closed for a filter replacement all year round.

  Ten minutes later, Harry and I were dining on a cramped patio, while hundreds of businesspeople and tourists alike passed us on the sidewalk, many with bewildered expressions as they pointed to the Empire State Building.

  “Do you ever tire of this?” Harry asked.

  “What?”

  “This.” He motioned to the people and the street. “The city. I don’t know. Maybe it won’t be such a bad thing.” He stopped and glanced at me, seemingly aware he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

  “So we are closing.” I reached for my water, feeling the urge to have something a little stronger today.

  He nodded. “Maybe. Either way, I’m out. Barns can’t afford to keep me, even if we find a way to survive. Ad revenue’s way down. We can’t keep making a living at these stories about… what are you doing now?” he asked.

  “Food vendors.” I pointed at one across the street, the smell of roasting meat emanating from the small trailer. The man inside was sweating profusely, and a few people were lined up, waiting for their chance to order.

  “Right. If we lose our jobs, what are you going to do?” Harry asked me.

  I hadn’t thought about it. “I only found out a few minutes ago. I haven’t had a chance to ruminate quite yet.” I waved our young waitress down. “Scotch on the rocks, with a twist.”

  Harry grinned. “Make it two.” He held up peace fingers. “I saw you in there with my uncle. What was that all about?” he asked.

  It was hard for anything to happen at the magazine without the entire office knowing instantly. I thought I’d just answered my own question of why I’d never dated Harry. “I’m going to Maine for a story.”

  “Maine? That’s in the budget?” Harry tilted his head, and when our drinks came, he sipped generously and set the glass down. “Sorry. The whole thing has me a little flustered. Maine. What’s the scoop?”

  “UFO sightings.” I said it while staring at my glass.

  “UFOs. Now why is old Uncle Barns interested in that?” Harry asked.

  “He thinks it’ll be a good human piece. You know how these supernatural and abduction shows are all the rage these days? He probably reasons we can sign a book or documentary deal with one of the big streaming channels,” I said. The truth was, it didn’t seem like Barns to choose this story. It felt far too coincidental for me to be sent to Cloud Lake.

  I hadn’t thought of the place for at least five years. Well, that wasn’t quite true, but I’d done my best to av
oid thinking about it. It would only send me into a deep spiral of despair when I did, even though I knew none of my memories were real. I’d constructed them to hide the real truth, but even that escaped me.

  “I hope you have a good time. You wouldn’t be interested in having some company while you’re up there, would you?” Harry asked, a fire glowing in his eyes now.

  I shook my head. The last thing I needed was Harry seeing the real me, especially in that setting. I had no idea how I was going to respond to returning there, but I felt strong enough. I had a barrier around my mind so powerful, I could handle anything. That, and a purse full of pills.

  “I shouldn’t be gone long. Only a couple of days, I’m hoping. In and out,” I said, without having any sort of a plan yet. Saturday was two days away; just enough time to pack and prepare.

  “I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I’ll be honest with you, mostly because this lunchtime Scotch is hitting me and I might not be here next week. I always thought you and I were going to become a thing.” Harry ordered another drink and glanced at my full glass.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject and we chatted idly about the magazine and where our lives might take us when it all ended.

  July 10th – 2020

  “You can’t be serious.” My sister Zoe leaned toward the camera, shock spread plainly over her face.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Cloud Lake. I mean, come on, Jess. You’re seriously going to go there after all these years? After what happened?” Zoe loved being dramatic, and this was no exception.

  “Don’t call me that,” I told her quietly.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ll never get used to your new name. But I’ll try to call you Eva. Does it really matter anymore?” Zoe asked.

  It might not to her, but Zoe hadn’t gone through what I had. No one had to deal with the aftermath of that summer in the same twisted way that had been forced upon me. “No one will know who I am. They won’t remember me, Zoe.” I was hoping that much was true. I was no longer the skinny fourteen-year-old girl waiting to fill out my halter tops and have guys interested in me. I was in my thirties and an almost-successful writer.

  “Not that bad? We left that cabin and never returned. Don’t you remember Grandma…”

  I cut her off. “I don’t want to talk about that. It’s fine, Zoe. I’m going to ask about the sightings.”

  “The sightings. You make it sound like it’s no big deal. Is this really even for work?” she pressed me. It was well past dinner time, and my stomach growled as we talked. We tried to have face to face discussions online as often as we could, which these days meant once every three or four months, as if our lives were so busy we couldn’t carve out ten minutes every two weeks.

  “It’s for work. Remember Clark?” I asked, and she finally smiled.

  “How could I forget? I wonder what he looks like now,” Zoe pondered.

  “Well, it seems like the kind of place where people are born and never leave, so how about I look him up for you?” I said with a laugh.

  “If you do, tell him his kisses need a little work.” Zoe faked a sloppy kiss at the camera, and I heard someone shouting for her in the distance. “Uhhhhh, I have to go, Jes… Eva. Never have kids, okay?”

  I was so far from that part of my life, I didn’t even reply. “Say hi to everyone for me. Maybe I can come visit soon.” When Zoe had first moved to Texas, she swore we’d visit each other, but I hadn’t been there in three years. Her kids were growing up fast, and I hadn’t been involved in their lives at all.

  “Sounds good,” Zoe said, and it was clear from her tone she didn’t believe me.

  “Talk soon.” I closed the program and sat at my small kitchen island’s stool, looking at the clock. “One more day.”

  I kept the laptop open and typed a search in the browser bar. Cloud Lake UFO. A few recent articles showed up, each nothing more than a couple sentences about a local seeing bright lights in the sky. Nothing definitive. I bit my lower lip and changed the search. Cloud Lake Abductions. More results showed up, and I clicked on the most current. I got an image of a middle-aged man in a plaid jacket, his wild auburn hair tucked under a classic green farmer’s cap.

  Chester Brown was on his porch on July sixth when he spotted a light over his crops. Chester has been a long-time resident of Cloud Lake and claims this isn’t the first time he’s seen the same brilliant flashes in the night sky.

  “I was out back, like most nights, rockin’ in my chair, when they showed up. It was like the Fourth of July come a couple days late.”

  When asked about what the alleged Unidentified Flying Object looked like, Brown had this to say. “Couldn’t see much other than the light. My eyes are old, but I think I saw it between flashes. Flat, round, not of this Earth.”

  Brown says this is the third time he’s seen something like this in fifty years on his land, and doubts it will be his last.

  “Cloud Lake is something of a hot spot. We’ve had all them missing persons, a cousin of mine included.”

  Cloud Lake’s history of strange sightings continues, but is there more to it than an elderly farmer’s poor eyesight? Only time will tell.

  I rolled my eyes at the badly-written local Cloud Lake article. This was the epitome of a desperate fluff piece, but behind every story was a glimmer of truth, and I needed to find it. I cringed at the thought of having to go over the lacking details with Chester Brown, but I knew I’d have to. I’d put ten on it that he had a barrel of homemade moonshine in his barn somewhere.

  I scrolled through the page, and one link stood out. The headline was more than familiar to me. This wasn’t about alien abductions, but about a young girl taken from outside a cabin in 2001. Tears formed in my eyes, and I closed the laptop, all of my composure threatening to explode into a million pieces.

  I wasn’t going to go there. I couldn’t. I breathed, putting my walls up again. I stood, took a sip of my now tepid coffee, and pulled the drawer open on the far side of my kitchen island. Inside, half a dozen pill bottles met my gaze, and I searched for the right one, popping the top and swallowing the contents with a dry gulp.

  As I waited for the effects to calm me, I scanned over my apartment. It was far nicer than anything I should’ve been able to afford on my midrange salary, but I was grateful each day that I’d been gifted the inheritance from my grandmother. I missed her so much, and blamed myself for her eventual passing. Dad and Zoe would have talked sense into me if they knew I’d ever thought that, but I couldn’t help it.

  I wondered what her cabin looked like now. I knew there was no way I’d be able to return to it while in Cloud Lake. For all I knew, it had been torn down and redeveloped as high-cost lake property, like most of those old lots were these days.

  My wallet sat on the countertop, and I unfolded it, looking at my driver’s license. My hair was darker in the image, a different version of myself. For some reason, I liked to change my look every two years, as if on a strict calendar. I glanced in the window over my sink, finding the reflection of a blonde woman, one with more wear lines than in the license photo, but also with a little more serenity. The card had my address and showed my court-changed name: Eva Heart. It had been so long ago, I almost didn’t know who Jess Carver was anymore.

  I scoured my fridge for some leftover pad Thai and finished my coffee before deciding I was too strung out to go to bed quite yet. I drew a bath in my clawfoot tub. It sat over the unit’s original hardwood, refinished before I’d moved in five years ago. As I slipped into the steaming water, I tried not to think about diving off the dock at Grandma’s cabin into Cloud Lake.

  July 11th – 2020

  I woke to my sunrise-simulation alarm clock, the light cascading over my fair-sized bedroom, waking me calmly, instead of the incessant beeping of a regular alarm. These days, I did anything to help mitigate my anxiety. This was something I could control, and I liked this alarm setting my day off on the right foot.

  Ev
erything was packed and waiting by my door; all I had to do was shower and have a bite before initiating the long drive up the coast to Maine. The truth was, I hadn’t been in that state since 2001 and hadn’t expected to ever go back. I sat on the bed, rubbing my eyes, and I had a momentary lapse in my calm demeanor. What the hell was I doing? How could I go there after everything that had happened?

  The almost twenty-years-older version of myself pushed the fears away, and I resolved to be strong. If I could do this report and return home in one piece, I’d have beaten the one thing that held so much power over my entire life. I wondered if everyone had that definitive moment in their lives, where they stood at a crossroads like this. There was always one moment that would set you up for the rest of your days, or take you down. I was determined to make sure this was my defining instant.

  Forty minutes later, I shut off the coffee maker after filling my to-go cup, and I checked to make sure everything was turned off inside my apartment. I was only planning on being gone for three or four days, tops, so I didn’t bother tossing the cream in my fridge and hoped the spinach would stay fresh.

  My apartment was one located in the heart of Chelsea, and I loved the neighborhood. I was also lucky enough to have underground parking, which came at a premium, like everything in Manhattan. The elevator took me and my suitcase to the bottom level, and I walked into the parkade. It was always a little darker than I liked, and I fought hard to not picture things lurking in the shadows or around the corners.

  I glanced at the video cameras set up around the space, their lights blinking red, telling me they were activated. The building super told me the parkade was as safe as they came, but I still held my breath as I crossed to my car, the alarm beeping off as I pressed my fob. Once I was behind the security of my car’s locked doors, I calmed myself.

  My audiobook began to play as my car connected to my cell phone via Bluetooth.

  I pulled out of the parking lot, entering the quiet Chelsea side street. It was seven in the morning, and the roads were nearly silent as a few taxis drove by, several early risers taking their leashed four-legged friends to do their morning business. The guy who owned the corner market down the street from me waved as he washed the sidewalks in front of his store. He was always smiling, and I tried to emulate his mood as I cruised by toward Twelfth.