Page 61 of The Paradox Club

“It wasn’t your fault, Tess.”

“Tell that to Marie.”

“Okay, Tess, I want you to try something for me before our next visit. Once a day, I want you to take fifteen minutes to sit and think about your father. Replay a happy memory from your time together.”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because you can’t grieve, Tess, until you fully comprehend what you’ve lost.”

IN THE BACK SEAT

Whether it was because of her lack of sleep or the emotional stress of being kidnapped, Tess did not know, but she felt utterly exhausted. By the time they pulled onto the highway her attempts to feel nothing had failed. Now a dark depression had settled over her and she slumped against the door, eyes closed. Neither Montag 5, Nemo 7, nor Aunt Vivian said a word, and Tess couldn’t find the energy to speak, to ask the questions that festered within her. Who were the men in black? Why did they want her and the radio? Why did Aunt Vivian know these men and why did she have another name? And wasn’t Ardan a character in a Jules Verne novel? Vivian had given that book to Tess for her tenth birthday—something about flying to the moon.

Tess had a sudden vision of that party—Vivian, Marie, and Harry standing around the table at the island, wrapping paper scattered everywhere and ten candles burning brightly on the cake Marie had baked that afternoon. Chocolate pound cake with an orange glaze. Tess’s favorite. And with that one image, like a snapshot in a forgotten family album, Tess felt a sliver of light penetrate the darkness that gripped her. She’d looked around the room and seen the presents—a new telescope from Harry, an art set from Marie, and the Jules Verne book from Vivian. She’d tasted the cake, still warm from the oven—the sweet chocolate and the bitter orange. Harry had laughed when Tess got so much sticky glaze on her fingers that the paper napkin adhered to her hand, and Marie had brought her a dish towel soaked in warm water to wipe up with, and Vivian had read aloud the first chapter of that book about going to the moon. And then…was that when she had told a story about working for NASA? Tess couldn’t remember the details. What she did remember is how Vivian’s voice made her feel peaceful, something her storytelling had done ever since.

Tess opened her eyes and saw a billboard flash by. Nemo 7, who sat on the other side of the back seat, had an expression on his face more appropriate for a victim than for a kidnapper. She could see the back of Vivian’s head and Montag 5’s right hand, which gripped both the steering wheel and the gun.

“Tell me one of your stories, Aunt Vivian,” said Tess.

“Yeah, Ardan 1, tell us a story,” said Montag 5. “It’s a long drive.”

“Where are we going?” asked Vivian.

“Where Pilgrim 3 tells us to go,” said Montag 5.

“But you already know, don’t you?” said Vivian. “Tomorrow is October fourteenth, and Pilgrim 3 has no idea where the island is, so we’re going to the next-best place.”

“Can’t you please stop talking about things I don’t understand and tell me a story?” said Tess.

“You know they don’t work like that,” said Vivian.

“Then tell me an old one. Tell me the one about working for NASA.”

“I never worked for NASA.”

“But you told a story about it.”

“Once I tell a story, it’s gone,” said Vivian. “Telling the story is my way of releasing it.”

Tess knew this. Vivian had told her a hundred times. But in her desperation, she persisted. “At my tenth birthday,” said Tess. “Don’t you remember? You told that story at my tenth birthday.”

“I may have told you a story about NASA sometime, Tess. But it couldn’t have been at your tenth birthday. Your memory is playing tricks on you.”

“Are you sure?”

“My stories didn’t start until you were older,” said Vivian.

“You gave me a Jules Verne book.”

“From the Earth to the Moon. That’s why you’re mixed up. Going to the moon made you think of the NASA story.”

“Are we getting a story or not?” said Montag 5.

“Not,” said Vivian.

“Then everybody shut the hell up,” said Montag 5.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” said Nemo 7. “Wake me up when you want me to drive.”