Chapter 1 Rebel Child by. Dylan #2
Fai shrugged as he responded, “thought I would try something new. Didn’t work, did it?”
I laughed at his attempt at being funny. “Not even a little bit, you’re way too serious for sayings like that,” I quipped as Fai pulled away from my apartment and began the five minute drive to the Fibonacci Files office.
Fai felt similarly about the city scene as I did. But with Sarah’s therapy practice being based in Eugene, he bought the office building on the outskirts of the city.
“What do you mean serious?” Fai asked. “I’m like the biggest jokester out there.”
I laughed. At his joke. He could not be serious. I turned to him to see his look of betrayal on his face.
Oh my god, he was being serious.
“No,” I laughed.
“What do you mean no?”
“You are like fun kryptonite!”
“I am not!”
“You were born a grumpy old man.”
He huffed. “I feel attacked,” Fai mumbled to himself.
I laughed hearing his disgruntled tone and held my hands up in surrender. “I love you, Fai. You are one of my favorite people. I’m only speaking the truth here.”
“I love you too, Jackie,” Fai responded with a smile on his face. “You look nice, by the way. Why?”
“Thanks, Fai.” Due to growing up in the literal middle of nowhere, I had never been one to follow the fashion trends of the time but managed to scrounge out some form of clothes every day.
Today was a simple pair of jeans, t-shirt, and well-loved jeans jacket.
“I have a meeting this afternoon about a new case Goldie found. I wanted to keep it casual, but a little nicer than my usual band tee.”
“What’s the case? Is it for your article on Dungeons and Dragons and its ties, or I guess lack thereof, to satanism?” Fai asked.
“No, that article is done. Goldie just needs to check my resources one more time and she will have it on your desk for next month's issue. This is something new,” I responded as I peered out the window at the towering trees on our right. “I honestly don’t know too much, but Goldie said Oliver and I needed to take a look at what she found. She thinks there is some connection between a couple of recent cases.”
“Is that why you needed to come in early today?” Fai asked as he parked along the street outside the Fibonacci Files office. “To go over the case with Goldie?”
“Yeah, some people involved in one of the cases are in Portland. Oliver and I are going to drive out and do an initial interview to see if there is a story there,” I responded as myself and Fai walked into our office building.
Looking around the office, my eyes immediately fell to Stan and gave him a quick wave, not wanting to break his concentration from his daily crossword puzzle he was intently working on.
Stan was an older man who had moved from Vancouver, Canada with his wife about seven years ago so she could get her degree at the University of Oregon.
That’s where Fai met the older couple and became fast friends with them.
Fai almost immediately offered Stan the job as the security officer for the building.
The sixty-five year old man would not be able to fend off any form of security risk, but he made everyone smile and brought in the best bubble tea, so no one complained.
“So why do you want to chase the story?” Fai asked. “You know we only try to fix the distorted sensations that come through the other media outlets.”
Fai despised any stories that were not solely based in facts.
While we often worked on popular cases and stories, every bit we wrote was backed up by science, mathematics, eye witnesses, etc.
He had managed to build a successful and well-respected business.
Our articles were often utilized in classroom settings, court cases, and in the news.
However, we hadn’t hit mainstream just yet.
It was my goal to diversify our audience and have our journal become a household name.
However, the facts we focused on and the sensationalized stories Hollywood pushed had very little overlap.
“I know, Fai,” I sighed, “but I don’t even know what the case is. Ask Goldie, she’ll have that answer.”
“That I will.”
We both turned to the voice we knew belonged to Goldie.
Goldie was brilliant and potentially the best researcher, editor, and tech god we could ask for.
She could have found a job anywhere if she had a degree of any kind.
Growing up on a reservation meant that her education wasn’t always recognized and she couldn’t be accepted into most universities.
Goldie found Fai three years ago hoping he would give her a chance, and with it being Fai, she was a shoo-in.
“Care to enlighten us?” I asked her.
“The case came out of San Francisco. Happened about nine months ago,” Goldie began, beckoning us to follow her into her office just to the right of the entrance.
“Eight year old boy, Joey, goes missing one day. He was in his room playing with his younger sister one second, the next second he was gone but his sister was still there. His mom called the police. There were no leads and no suspects. Five days later, boom, he shows up.”
“Goldie, don’t get me wrong, it is an interesting story, but what does it have to do with us?” asked Fai as he folded his arms in front of him.
“You didn’t let me finish,” she said, pointing to Fai.
“He showed up in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day, once again out of nowhere. He had no visible injuries, and seemed to be perfectly fine. Except he thought it had been an hour since he had gone missing. Joey had no memories of his capture.”
I pondered the details. There were many explanations as to why he forgot.
It could be physical trauma or even a mental block to protect himself from what he experienced.
“This is getting weirder. Let me guess, the public got the story and twisted it like it was some serial kidnapper or the government drugged him or something?” I asked as I sat down in one of the guest chairs that sat across the desk.
This happened often with cases at the moment due to the rising Satanic Panic nationwide.
Goldie nodded and sat in her own desk chair as she pulled out files and handed them to Fai and I.
“You are right. Except they went the supernatural route. They’re claiming satanists are the cause and some other mumbo jumbo.
There is a similar case of a disappearance and a reappearance that I have Oliver working on.
Basically the same story, but this time the man was in his thirties and missing for two years.
This newspaper…” She paused for a moment, looking for something.
“The Christian Chronicle, wow that is a stupid name, is connecting the two stories.”
“So is the little boy in Portland… What was his name?” I asked as I flipped through the file. “Oh yeah, Joey, is he the one I am meeting with today?”
“Yep, as well as his mom and his little sister. Names are Janice and Nancy, respectively,” Goldie responded.
“This is a good one, Goldie, nice work,” said Fai as he gave Goldie a fist bump before turning to me. “Jackie, let me know if you need anything. Like I said, this seems like a good one.”
With that, we both left Goldie's office to head into our individual ones, bidding a temporary farewell.
I was greeted with my painted dark green walls that were adorned with many pictures of myself, coworkers and friends.
There was a bookshelf on the back wall behind my desk that was littered with novels, research books, biographies, and stories of famous cases I had researched.
It ranged from various Stephen King novels, one of which was based on my hometown, my favorite historical fiction like The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and even some trashy romance novels. I had a wide taste in books.
I slowly moved behind the oak desk that was in the middle of the room and began digging through the files provided by Goldie.
While Goldie was lucky enough to have a computer, I was comfortable relying on my books and co-workers’ skills to find the information I needed when I approached a new case.
I was meticulous with my work as I laid out each picture, note, article, and police case that involved my new story.
A story that would hopefully begin to unfold as I worked.
As I returned later that day from picking up my new Jeep with Fai, I saw that Oliver was at the office. Goldie let me know earlier in the day that he had wanted to stop by the library before our drive to Portland this evening.
“Olly! You are never going to believe what I did!” I yelled as I ran into Oliver’s office.
Oliver immediately groaned at the unwelcome mention of the nickname I had coined for him. “Please don’t call me that, Jackie! I feel like I am ten again talking to my mom.”
It also didn’t fit him. He was a giant, probably six and a half feet. He was often told he looked like an attractive Wesley Snipes, whatever that meant. He had apparently played college basketball a few years back. He still played in his freetime.
Oliver had tried to teach me once.
It didn’t go well.
“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever,” I responded as I waved off the topic and plopped down on the sofa in his office. “But you didn’t guess what I did! I got a new car! One that actually works.”
Oliver laughed. “Jackie, that is actually incredible. You’re the one driving us to Portland then.”
We had met when I joined the company two and a half years ago. We were immediately friends and in the years since had become best friends.
We balanced each other out well. Where I was extroverted and outgoing, Oliver was calm and careful. Oliver kept me from being too reckless and I kept him upbeat and joyful.
We originally shared an office when I started working.
It had only lasted three months. Fai had walked in on us after hearing the roar of laughter for nearly an hour attempting to play a version of beer pong with apple juice and a golf ball.
The next day he had moved my desk into the office across the hall from Oliver, hoping to dissuade our antics.
This only led to us throwing notes via paper airplane into one another's office.
Fai was half tempted to lock us in our offices during the day so we would focus a bit better.
He, however, knew we would still find a way to distract one another.
We also did better work when we had each other.
The two of us kept each other in line, being sure to never stray too far into our own theories and hypotheses when writing our stories. Oliver and I truly brought out the best in one another.
“You best believe I’ll drive us. We should actually head out soon, by the way,” I called over my shoulder as I stood and left Oliver’s office, heading back to my own.
Oliver followed behind me as he asked. “What do you think of the story?”
“Joey’s story, you mean?”
“Yeah. Why do you think he can’t remember where he was or what happened?”
“I wonder if he just blocked it out because it was too traumatic. It seems like the most logical option, “ I responded, as I sat on the couch that rested in my office and Oliver leaned in my doorway. “What did the published story say again?”
Oliver began to chuckle as he responded, “that the satanists had wiped his mind.”
“Damn. I need everyone to move on from the Satanic Panic, it’s getting annoying,” I groaned. “At this point everyone must be a Satanist from what they’re saying. How do you even wipe a mind? What does that even mean?”
“You know, I never learned how to do that in college. Maybe you learn in Satanist school,” he joked.
I rolled my eyes in response. It was a good joke, but I wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re annoying too, just like the Satanic Panic.”
“Trust me, Jackie, I agree,” said Oliver as he went to grab my hand to get me to stand up. “Let’s go, I don’t want to get stuck in traffic and end up late.”
“It’s a two hour drive and we have two hours and forty five minutes until we need to be there. We don't need to leave yet,” I groaned.
“I am going to be stressed out until we leave and thus stressing you out. Let’s just go now. Please?” Oliver begged as he dramatically clasped his hands together.
“Fine. Meet me at the car in ten minutes. I named her Shannon.”