Stephen Alexander graduated from Worcester Polytechnic Institute just ten years after he killed a killer. The condo he rented on Ashland street featured lots of light, hardwood floors, and boxes stacked up near the doorway. He was moving out the next day — Sunday — and after putting the bulk of his stuff in storage, he would head south and west.
He swept the floors and admired his view of the courtyard for the last time. He'd spent hours on the bench at this window — it was his favorite place to read. Stephen had avoided socializing in college. He was serious about his studies, and they always seemed to conflict with everyone else’s busy itinerary of parties and screwing around. But, he always enjoyed watching the world pass by, and sometimes spent hours with an unfinished assignment on his lap while he stared out this window.
Stephen had proved an excellent student. With his major in biochemistry, he was unofficially Pre-Med, but hadn’t yet taken the entrance examination. When he admitted the truth to himself, he didn’t have a firm idea of what he wanted to do. In fact, his next move after graduation had remained completely unmapped until very recently.
He swept the last dirt into his dustpan and readied himself for several more trips down the stairs, but he had more pressing business first. Stephen squared the opening of the last trash bag and dropped both the dirt and the dustpan in. Then, he unfolded the flaps of the box on top, and removed a shoebox. He had intended to store this box along with the rest of his stuff. He changed his mind.
He took the shoebox to the bench and pulled out its contents for the last time.
Portland, Maine — A family of four, recently reunited, vanished without a trace after leaving their Maine home for a summer vacation. Charles and Sheri Palmer, divorced but recently reconciled, left last Saturday and expected to reach Florida by Tuesday, according to family. With reservations in Orlando, they hoped to visit several attractions while they celebrated Charles’s recent career success….
Stephen read the article again and thought about his friend Ben. The last time he saw Ben in the hospital, Stephen never imagined he would never see him again. He heard of their disappearance a couple of weeks after returning home. His mom had broken the news and then Stephen had found the newspaper article online and printed it out.
Next in the box he pulled out the confession letter from Jack. Stephen had never opened it because he never needed to use it. He supposed Jack had taken care of everything at the hotel, but hadn’t given it a lot of thought after returning home. Shocked by the events of that summer, he happily forgot everything and tucked away the letter so that he could return to a normal summer. Eventually he started to think of the shoebox as his protection against the past — anything that reminded him of that summer went in the box and out of his thoughts.
Durham, Maine — The entire community in this small town was shocked and saddened by the disappearance of Gabe Vigue late last year. Another shock was delivered when the police arrested neighbor and friend of the Vigue’s, Bill Anderson for the abduction of Gabe. Although little physical evidence tied Anderson to the crime, the prosecutor was able to paint a compelling picture of his guilt….
The most recent printouts in the box were from a small-town Texas newspaper detailing the disappearance of a boy from a pre-school. Stephen’s one connection to his past was a habit that he never questioned — when he was bored and had a computer in front of him, he would always look up “Gabe Vigue” and see what came up. One day an article appeared from a small Texas newspaper that compared a recent kidnapping to the case of Gabe. Reading the details, Stephen had to agree, the case was very similar. What really made the article jump off the page was the name of the reporter credited for the story. The byline read “P. Bateman.”
Stephen intended to head for the Texas town in the morning to see if he could discover the true identity of the reporter and perhaps even look around for an abandoned hotel. If he was right, he would discover his one-time friend Jack, entering into his new avocation. If he was wrong, then he would be happy to be wrong.
He put down this last article and gathered all the papers into one neat pile. He broke apart the old, tattered shoebox and added it to the pile. All the contents and the shoebox were then stuffed deep into the plastic trash-bag. He knotted the top and looked at his apartment for the last time.
The next morning, he drove.