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Tales of Carousel: You've Got Mail
Tales of Carousel: You've Got Mail
Tales of Carousel: You've Got Mail
Zara Fitzgerald waited as the phone rang. This phone number was one of the weird ones. For whatever reason, you had to wait a good 14 or so rings before you got the answering machine. Most of the time you could get to that machine in less than seven.
She knew how many rings it took because she had counted them every time she attempted to call Tina Trammell for the past two weeks. She usually didn't have this hard of a time getting ahold of a woman with a missing child, even when that missing child was of legal drinking age.
As she waited, she spun slowly in her chair and surveyed the busy room behind her. Reporters clamored to get their stories to print. It was a busy week. There was a lot of pressure from the higher-ups. Zara was above a lot of that. Her story was going to be big. It was the kind of story that could get published in long form and lend credibility to the paper.
Beep.
“Ms. Trammel, this is Zara Fitzgerald at the Chicago Beacon. I was hoping that I could get in contact with you to discuss your son's case. Sadly, I can't say that there are any developments, but I do have some questions that I didn't think to ask last time—”
Click.
“Hello?” A small voice answered.
Finally, Zara thought.
“Hello, Ms. Trammell. This is Zara Fitzgerald. Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Sarah, is that you?” Tina Trammel asked. “The reporter?”
Tina had not once gotten Zara’s name right. It was far too late to correct her though.
“Yes ma'am,” Zara said politely. “I was just calling to see if you were willing to answer some more questions about your son. I've been talking to a few of the other parents and gathering up some background details. It would be really helpful if you were willing to do the same.”
There was a pause at the other end.
“Oh, I don't need to do that,” Ms. Trammell said.
“Excuse me?”
“Gordy isn't missing,” she said. “I finally got a hold of him last month. He has the most remarkable stories.”
“You're saying that Gordy contacted you and you've spoken to him directly?” Zara clarified.
“Oh yes,” Tina answered. “We spoke for hours. He got a job at a travel company. He works on cruise ships and other things like that. He told me all about it. Isn't that wonderful?”
“Wow,” Zara said. Frankly, there wasn't much more she could say. When a group of young people goes missing, you don't just expect one of them to show up with a job. “Can you tell me what company he works for?”
“Well dear, I don't remember exactly,” Tina said. “He says that he's gotten to travel the world. You have to understand when he was growing up that he didn't get to do that. His father and I didn't have the means to take him on vacations. I always regretted that. He told me that all he ever wanted was to go to exotic places and meet new people. And that's what he's been doing all this time.”
Tina's voice cracked as she cried. Tears of joy. Tears of relief.
“That's wonderful to hear,” Zara said. “Is he still with his girlfriend? They were last seen together back in May.”
“Why yes I think so,” Tina said. “They're together in the pictures.”
Zara thought for a moment.
“Pictures? He sent you pictures? In the mail or…”
“No, dear. He sent them on the computer.”
Zara was numb. She had investigated hundreds of disappearances. The vast majority had shown up within a day or two. Often it was just the result of a glorified custody dispute. This was something else. Five people went missing. And they weren't the first. Zara had found at least three other groups who had gone missing and around the same part of the country in just the same odd way. In her experience, people rarely just showed back up.
It happened of course. Usually though, when people went missing of their own volition, their loved ones were well aware of the reason.
“This is a little forward to ask, I know, but is it possible for you to show me these pictures?”
Tina didn't answer. She seemed hesitant. Zara worried that she had gone too far.
“It's just, you know, having this job I so rarely get to see happy endings. It would really mean a lot if I could see Gordy and Megan,” Zara said softly.
“Let me see if I can make this work,” Tina said. “I never have been very good with the computer. It was Gordy's. Can you tell me your…”
She lost the word.
“My e-mail address?”
“Yeah, that's it. Your e-mail. So I can send it over the World Wide Web.”
“[email protected],” Zara said slowly, sounding it out.
“Oh dear I'm going to have to write that down,” Tina said.
Zara had thought she would do that the first time.
“OK, Hun I'm going to have to hang up with you,” Tina said. “For some reason, I can't get on the web while I'm on the phone.”
“I understand,” Zara said. “Dial-up can be a real hassle that way.”
“OK bye dear,” Tina said.
“Goodbye, and thanks again. I'm glad to hear about your son.”
Zara hung up the phone and sat back in her rolling chair. She thought about the implications. Up until that moment, she believed that Gordy and his four best friends had disappeared together. If he was actually off gallivanting around on cruise ships, was it just a coincidence that the other four disappeared at the same time?
No. Zara did not believe in coincidences.
It took three hours before she finally got the e-mail. She had almost given up hope and was about to redial Tina Trammell when it came in.
It immediately became clear that Tina had not just sent the photographs. She had forwarded the entire e-mail chain. Zara was not going to complain.
The e-mail that Gordy had been using was [email protected]. Out of a journalistic habit, she immediately typed in in her browser. There was no website attached to that address. Unfortunately, she didn't know what that meant or if it meant anything. All she knew was that she wasn't going to be able to learn about this supposed company from their website.
With a few clicks, she began downloading the photos. It was going to take a while. The building's internet was a bit outdated.
As she waited for the first of the pictures to load, her attention was taken away when her boss, Archie Henderson, dragged a rolling chair over next to her and straddled it backward. He took a deep breath as he did so. He tried to look casual, just one of the guys at the office, but Zara knew better.
“It's not done yet, Archie,” she said before he had the chance to open his mouth. She turned in her chair to look at him.
He expected as much. Archie had worked for the Chicago Beacon for almost 20 years. He had learned when a reporter wasn't going to write a story. Journalistic integrity was best selectively employed, Archie thought.
Zara Fitzgerald disagreed.
“We need it to print,” he said.
“No, we don't.”
“Yes, we do actually.”
“No, we do not actually need it. And you know it too. It is not essential news. A rich pop star going on an extended booze cruise hardly counts as a disappearance and you know that.”
“Zara…” Archie started to say, but then he got a glimpse of her of her screen. “Is this your missing kid? The college kid from last year?”
Zara looked back over her shoulder toward her screen. The picture had loaded now. Sure enough, there was young Gordy Trammel. It looked like he was at some sort of carnival... no a circus. His girlfriend, Megan Davis was standing right next to him. She looked scared as she surveyed the unseen crowd. He looked like he was trying not to be scared.
For a moment Zara and Archie both just stared at the picture.
“That look strange to you?” Zara asked slowly.
“Strange ratio for a photograph. Almost looks more like a frame from a movie. Where did you get this?”
“The mother,” Zara said. “She seems satisfied. I haven't gotten a chance to go through All of them yet.”
There was an awkward amount of silence as they stared at the young couple walking through a circus. There was straw on the ground and a large tent in the background. People were laughing and having fun. Everyone but the two central subjects who at best looked uncomfortable. Gordy had a strained smile.
“Not everybody loves the circus as much as you and I,” Archie said. He returned to the previous subject. “That rich pop star helps sell papers And this is a legitimate disappearance by every measure that we could use. If it turns out she is on a booze cruise or doing drugs in Thailand we'll report on that too but for now, she's missing. Again.”
Zara held her tongue.
“Look, our owner has slashed our budget. He thinks this Internet thing is going to permanently eat away at our profitability. Until we prove otherwise, we have to bring out the hits. Misbehaving celebrities are a godsend at a time like this,” Archie said.
More than anything, Zara just wanted to get back to the pictures. Something felt off about this entire thing.
“Yes, Mr. Henderson,” Zara said, with a dash of disdain.
“So, it’s back to Mr. Henderson, huh?”
“I guess so,” Zara said.
Taking one last glimpse at the computer monitor, Archie Henderson breathed heavily and mumbled to himself as he trudged back across the busy floor to his office.
There were four photographs but she was still caught up on the first one. There was something so odd, so composed about the photo even though the main subjects did not appear to be doing anything remarkable.
It even looked like someone set up lighting for the photograph.
Her eyes wandered around the frame until she saw in the background something that was common at circuses. A clown performing a juggling act for some children. There was something strange about the clown's face. Its makeup almost looked like a larger face drawn onto the face, forehead, and scalp of the clown. That was not remarkable. Circus performers had all kinds of fancy makeup and often clowns had their signature look.
What was odd, was that it almost looked like the painted-on eyes were staring at Gordy and Megan.
It must have been a trick of the light.
Zara continued to look through the picture until she saw a tuft of orange hair coming from a young woman in the background walking in the crowd.
Is that Nia Mitchell? Zara thought. It couldn’t be.
It looked like her though. Zara had memorized her face.
Another thing that made this case special and that assured Zara that there was something larger going on, was that Gordy’s classmate Nia Mitchell had gone missing one year before him. She was not the subject of much investigation because her parents didn't press it. Unfortunately, if a missing person's loved ones did not pressure the news media and the police, fervor would die down depressingly quickly.
No one seemed that interested in finding out what happened to Nia Mitchell.
Except for Zara.
She walked over to the nearest filing cabinet and opened it up. She pulled out the file on Nia.
She sat down to make a phone call.
Unlike Tina Trammell, Marideth Baker picked up immediately.
“Baker Residence,” she said cheerily.
“Hello Mrs. Baker,” Zara said. “You probably don't remember me. My name is Zara Fitzgerald. I spoke to you about 18 months ago about your daughter Nia.”
“Oh.”
“Well, I was wondering if maybe there had been some updates. Have you heard from Nia?”
There was a pause.
“We have. We talked to the police. She's no longer officially a missing person. I'm sorry we didn't contact you.”
“So she's back home?”
Another pause.
“She's... somewhere. Right now things aren't so good,” Mrs. Baker said. Her disposition changed immediately. She sounded sad.
“Do you have a phone number I could contact her at? I understand that things may be complicated,” Zara said.
“We don't. Not anymore. Nia… you might not understand. As far as I know, she's fine. She's struggling on her path with the Lord right now. I believe that one day the spirit will show her the way home.”
Zara got a sinking feeling.
“I'm sorry. I know that this is intrusive but understanding missing people is my job and my calling. It would help a lot if you could explain something. Did you have this falling out in person? Have you actually seen Nia?”
A third pause.
“It was a phone call. She told us that she wasn't a believer anymore and that she'd run off with a man. An atheist if you could believe that.” Mrs. Baker started to cry. “Her father put his foot down and said that she's not allowed back home until she repents. I haven't heard from her since.”
“That’s horrible to hear,” Zara said. She contemplated asking for the phone number that Nia had called from but she realized that it was unlikely Mrs. Baker could acquire it easily or that she would want to get it at all.
After a few more words of comfort, Zara ended the phone call.
What did all this mean?
She decided to look through the rest of the photographs.
The rest were shot just like the others. High detail, well-lit, well composed. Like a still from a movie.
The second photograph appeared to have been taken in front of an old decrepit mansion. Zara wasn’t certain where the architecture originated from.
There they were. The five missing kids. Nia was not in this photograph. It was just those five.
Then came a picture near a parade. It was similar to the circus. Very lively. Not much to see, though. The next picture took place on an airplane. Nia was there. At least in that one, Gordy was smiling and more at ease.
There was no picture of a cruise ship, an odd omission seeing as Gordy supposedly worked for a cruise line of some kind.
Zara had recently spoken to the parents of all of the other missing kids. None of them had reported contact with their children, including Gordy Trammell’s girlfriend Megan Davis’ parents.
Not yet, anyway.
The email chain didn’t turn up much pay dirt. A few I love you comments, a few stories of Gordy’s days working for the tour company. Somehow, he managed to say nothing using a lot of words. No place names were specified. No people with titles at the company were mentioned.
The email conversation itself was looking to be a dead end.
Of course, she could just email Gordy herself.
She switched to her e-mail and typed in the address which Gordy had sent the pictures from. She composed a message asking him where he was and if he was free to talk.
To her surprise, the reply was almost instant. The weird thing was that the reply wasn’t from Gordy’s email address. It was from [email protected]. That itself was strange. Even stranger is that the email did not appear to be a form letter or auto-response.
Email Chain between Zara Fitzgerald and Damon at Cruise Mail
---
Subject: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 1, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: [email protected]
Hello,
Gordy Trammell? Are you available to talk?
Best,
Zara Fitzgerald
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 1, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
This is Damon with Cruise Mail. Unfortunately, your email is not on the whitelist. ChiBeacon… that wouldn’t be the Chicago Beacon, would it?
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 1, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Yes, it would. We’re currently trying to track down a missing person. Damon, I was trying to reach Gordy Trammell. Is there a way you can put me in contact with him?
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 2, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
I can certainly look up his file and confirm his employment, but I can’t give away more information than that. It’s an employee privacy issue.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 2, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Anything you can tell me would be useful.
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 3, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
We do have a Gordy Trammell on file. Unfortunately, there is no Z. Fitzgerald in his emergency contacts, so I can’t give you much more than that.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 3, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
I’m contacting you on behalf of his mother, Tina Trammell. Is she an emergency contact?
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 4, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
I’m afraid not. Good afternoon, Ms. Fitzgerald.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 4, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Who is his emergency contact? Where can I look to find more information about your company?
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 5, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
His current emergency contact, and I should not be telling you this, is a Megan Davis.
You can find out more information about us in any trade magazine or travel agency which we have partnered with.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 5, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Look, Damon, I need to confirm that this kid is alive and accounted for. Is there any way you can help me with that?
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 6, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
That is above my pay grade. I can put you in contact with our legal department. You can take it up with them.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 6, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Yes, please.
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 9, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Just checking in. It’s been three days and you have not given me the information you promised.
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 10, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
Can you tell me what state your business is registered in? I can’t seem to find any information about you at all.
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 11, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
I’m sorry. I’ve run it up the chain and I will not be able to give you their information at this time. We do business as Cruise Mail. That is not our legal name. You have to understand; we tend to attract employees whose lives before coming to us can be complicated. We owe them a certain amount of precaution.
After talking it over with legal counsel and Mr. Trammell, I can, however, invite you out for an in-person meet and greet at one of our partner locations. You can establish for yourself that Mr. Trammell is alive and well.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 11, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
That’s a little unorthodox. Where exactly would this meeting take place?
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 12, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
Our closest office to your location. Near Branson, Missouri. A popular destination for our clientele, as you can imagine. I am sorry to say we cannot offer accommodation in Branson itself, but we can recommend the Olde Hille Bed & Breakfast nearby. We are available on the 28th at 8 a.m. Would that be acceptable?
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 12, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
I don’t have much choice.
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 13, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
Will you be coming alone? We would like to know what to tell the hotel.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 13, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
To: Damon [email protected]>
No. Expect four.
Zara
---
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 14, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
Very well. I will call you with directions to our locatiion. It can be a bit tricky. The meeting is set for the 28th.
Damon
What did I just agree to? Zara thought to herself.
Best case scenario, she was walking into the weirdest corporate meeting of her life. She didn't think that would be the case. What she expected, was that this was some sort of cult.
It was inevitable. One cannot spend their entire life trying to find missing people without coming across a cult or two. Needy displaced people are their perfect target. This was something she had done before. If things didn't look safe, she would never show up.
She had told them that she was bringing three other people. Truthfully, she didn't have three people that she could invite. She had one though, And he was worth three all by himself.
Leopold Abernathy had faced down the Vietcong, the mob, and the pushback to the Civil Rights Movement. Those were the times that Leo called the good old days. He had not gone one day without a gun strapped to his hip since he was a grunt in the army. Then he wore one as a police officer. Now, he brought his gun with him as a Private Investigator.
He was the perfect person to bring along.
~-~
“The fuck I will,” Leo said. “I told you. After I get a picture of Senator Couch bunking up with his secretary, I am out of here for good. Just one more week and my worries will be over.”
“Cause you're moving to Barbados?” Zara asked.
She had invited him out for coffee.
“Keep guessing, baby girl, maybe someday you’ll guess right.”
“If I guessed right, you’d just retire somewhere else,” Zara said.
Leo’s long-awaited retirement was his favorite subject to talk about when he was stressed or knee-deep in his work, which was almost always.
“You know it,” Leo said. “Now why do you want to get me kidnapped by a cult in the middle of Missouri?”
“It’s actually southern Missouri.”
“See that doesn’t make any sense either,” Leo said. “Why would a cruise company have offices in a landlocked state?”
Zara took a deep breath. “They sent me this,” she said, sliding a brochure across the table. "It says they started with cruises but then expanded. Now they do packages in lots of tourist destinations. Including Branson, Missouri.”
“And I suppose you have no one else to cover your ass?”
“Just you, Leo,” Zara said.
“How many missing kids?” Leo asked.
“Six. All 21 and under.”
Leo scrunched his face. “Damn. Okay, but the first time I hear a banjo, I’m out of there. They don’t think you’re coming down there alone, do they?”
“No. Told them I was bringing three people.”
“Good. We’ll tell them it’s me, and the two snipers hiding in the trees,” he laughed.
He took a deep breath.
“Am I getting paid this time?”
“You got paid last time.”
“After weeks of hounding. Your boss approve this?” Leo asked.
“He will. If he doesn’t, I’ll pay you out of my pocket.”
Leo couldn’t tell her no.
“Glad to see you’re putting that inheritance to good use.”
Zara was going to need all the help she could get. She didn't know what she was onto, but she knew it was something. Finding the truth was what mattered. Finding those kids.
When the time came, she and Leo packed up in her car the night before their meeting. They needed to scope out the place, make sure everything was 5 by 5.
Two Weeks Later
Subject: Re: Seeking Information on Gordy Trammell
Date: April 27, 2002
From: Damon [email protected]>
To: Zara Fitzgerald [email protected]>
I'm trying to make it work... Give me a second.
Wait. Can you hear me?
Zara Fitzgerald. Looks like it's got you. If you can hear this message somehow, don't come to Carousel.
You're not responding. I'm not sure if you can even hear me.
I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner.
Damon
---
Subject: Re: Zara Fitzgerald Resignation
Date: May 01, 2002
From: Zara Fitzgerald <>[email protected]>
To: Archie Henderson [email protected]>
Archie,
Frankly, I’m astonished it’s taken me this long to write this. After our confrontation on the phone last night, you shouldn’t be shocked to see this email, but let’s not kid ourselves - you've probably been too busy appeasing your corporate overlords to notice. Here’s the crux: The Chicago Beacon's descent into mediocrity and its blatant disdain for journalistic ethics are so profound that my stomach churns at the thought of being associated with it any longer. I’m not just resigning; I’m disassociating.
I’ll hire a consierge service to pick up my computer and files because, frankly, setting foot in that building again would be an assault on my professional dignity. While we're on the subject, ensure my final paycheck reflects every last cent owed to me – considering the current administrative incompetence, I'm attaching detailed instructions, so there’s no "misunderstanding".
This resignation isn’t about you, Archie, or the few souls still clinging to integrity amidst the newsroom's devolution. But let's not embellish our exchanges with misplaced sentimentality. I appreciated working with you, back when you were a journalist, not whatever sell-out title you wear now.
To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. This isn't just goodbye; it's good riddance to a once-proud institution now withering under a mix of cowardice, greed, and ineptitude.
No regards,
Zara Fitzgerald