"Turn this way now
Or face the lonely autumn tree
And never look back."
Chloe sees the words carved into a tree, hears them in her brain, but it's not enough of a flashback for her to place them, either in the past or the future. It is enough, though, to affect her with a sense of urgency, and dread. The sudden sheets of rain Arcadia Bay greets them with as they enter the valley don't exactly help. The water slams into the windshield, reducing visibility to nearly nothing, and making her slow to a crawl and grip the steering wheel tightly. It's a proper fucking squall.
Home shit home.
A few minutes later, when the storm dies down as suddenly as it started, Chloe involuntarily checks the ocean for a giant twister. The bay is teeming with whitecaps, but it's twisterless and boatless. For now.
"Wowser," Steph says. "Weather, huh?"
They stop at Samuel's, but he's not home. It's Monday, and Sammy is at work like all normal people, his mother tells them. Insecurity, or insult? Chloe can't quite tell. As they walk back to the truck, her gaze is drawn towards the roof of the old school bus she can see through the trees. The junkyard flashbacks explode: good, bad and the ugly. It's like the place is calling to her. She looks away.
Blackwell being farther out, they go to the diner first. She feels her mother's eyes on her as they drive past the front windows. The bigger of the two whales is watching too. It doesn't look friendly. Was its mouth always agape like that?
The homeless lady is on her cardboard sheet in the alley, giving them a surprised look.
"Didn't you use to work at the hospital?" Chloe asks, as she gets out of the truck.
The surprised look becomes a frown.
"Me? The hospital? No. I never worked there."
"Really? Could have sworn it was you at the front desk there… Three years ago? When Rachel got stabbed."
It feels weird to hear someone tell you they were never there when you know they were, Chloe discovers. And not in a good way.
"Wait. Steph. You were there that day."
Steph is visibly uncomfortable with being blindsided and put on the spot. She raises her shoulders slowly and speaks in a softer voice.
"I, uh... don't remember the receptionist, Chloe. Sorry."
"I think I would remember if I worked at the hospital three years ago," Claire says. She sounds offended, as though she was just accused of working for the IRS, or Raytheon, or something.
"You happen to know anything about a book called 'Ignis Corvusque'?" Chloe asks, because she has to.
"A book now? Ignis what? I don't get you."
She sighs.
"I remember seeing this book at the hospital three years ago, same time I remember seeing you there."
"I don't know anything about a book. And I never worked at the hospital."
"Yes, you said that."
"Do you know the story of the raven and the fire?" Steph asks.
"The fairy tale? Sure…"
"How could it help us find Rachel?"
The homeless lady stares at Steph, at Chloe, at her paper cup, then at them in turn again.
"We found Tommy," Steph tells her. "And he said that... Rachel vanished into thin air in the woods."
She proceeds to fill the homeless lady in on everything that happened after they found Tommy Hill.
"I feel like I can trust you as much as Chloe... And you won't think I'm crazy," Max Caulfield says.
The quick flashback sounds reassuring, but she's not exactly crazy about the "as much as Chloe" part. Take it easy there, Max. You've just met the lady.
"You saw her?" the lady asks at the end. "Saw her in this room, and she was alive?"
"Yeah."
She stares into her cup for a moment, shrugs, shakes her head.
"I don't know what to tell you. They talk about that kind of thing, people vanishing in the woods, but that's just tales mothers tell to keep their kids from wandering off too far from home."
"So where does raven and the fire come in?" Chloe asks.
"Who told you it comes in anywhere? The raven kidnapped the daughter of the chief and ransomed her back for fire. What does that have to do with you or Rachel? You think the raven kidnapped your friend? You think you can pay some kind of ransom to set her free? It doesn't make any sense."
"What about when the raven got imprisoned? He gave the fire to the Tillamook for setting him free. Do you know what they did to set him free?"
"When raven got imprisoned?" Claire echoes without enthusiasm.
"Supposedly, it's the part where the Tillamook got fire from the raven?"
"Never heard that part. The story just says that the raven had the fire all to himself for a long time, until the Tillamook came and took it from him."
"What about the thunderbird and the whale?"
The old lady grimaces.
"What? Did Tommy blame the whale, too? Listen, are you sure he wasn't on drugs? "
"No," Chloe says, opening the truck door. "No, we're not."
They drive by Blackwell slowly, silently. It feels like another dead end. Feels like a lonely motherfucking autumn tree. The grounds are deserted and wet. Everyone must be in class. There's no sign of Nathan Prescott, whom it's probably best to avoid for the time being. His truck is in the parking lot, though, and Chloe parks as far away from it as possible.
Not that she can hide her truck's identity in Arcadia Bay.
If Claire didn't work at the hospital, why did Chloe remember seeing her there? Her and the book that doesn't exist. She has a feeling it means something, but not a feeling to tell her what it means, of course.
Turn this way now.
Fucking stupid universe at it again.
They make it across campus unscathed. Samuel is sweeping the dormitory steps.
Kate Marsh takes a step and falls from the dormitory roof into the sky.
Chloe winces.
"Hi Samuel," Steph says with a wave.
"Steph and Chloe back again. How goes the search? Have you come to examine my shed?"
"Came to ask you about a book that doesn't exist, actually," Chloe says. "But whatta hell, we can also examine the shed."
"A book that doesn't exist," Samuel repeats. "Most intriguing, young Chloe Price."
"Ignis Corvusque mean anything to you, middle-aged Samuel Taylor?"
"That's… Fire and… raven?"
"You know Latin?"
"Just a few words."
"Funny that knowing just a few words you would know those two."
"Is it? Why?"
"I mean, out of a million Latin words, the 'few words' you know just happen to include 'fire' and 'raven'?"
"There are only about 40000 words in Latin, actually. And those two aren't uncommon. I also know 'aqua' for water, 'terra' for earth, 'aeris' for air. Squirrel is sciurus."
"Any idea why I would remember seeing a book with that title on the shelf in your shed?"
"When were you in my shed?"
"Oh. Uh, it was a long time ago. When I still went here. A funny story, actually... For another time. This book was on the shelf next to Pharsalia and Chaos Theory."
"Chaos Theory and… Pharsalia? By Lucan?"
"Yeah, that one should actually exist."
"It does, but not in my shed."
"Wait, so you're saying none of those books were there? I dreamed all three of them?"
"It's a janitor closet, Chloe. Why would I have Pharsalia by Lucan in the janitor closet?"
"Because… you like reading intellectual shit when you have nothing to do?"
"After I sweep I paint. After I paint, I sweep. Or take out garbage. Or pick up garbage. Or feed the squirrels. I'm much too busy to read at work."
"That's just great," Chloe says after a pause. "Another fucking dead end."
She feels like kicking a garbage can, but since Samuel is right there, she stuffs her hands in her pocket and turns away instead. The side of the school building rises red above the trees, its windows reflecting the sky that looks to be prepping for another downpour. Tempest. That window there is the Drama lab, she thinks absently.
"Did you think these books were going to help you… find Rachel somehow?" Samuel asks, bringing her back down to the lawn level, where she sees Tobanga peeking from behind the bushes to the right.
She sighs and shakes her head.
"Not the books. Symbols. The meaning or whatever. See, I've been getting these… visions, and they are kind of all over the place, but there is a feeling, or, I don't know, hope, that they're all connected somehow and that they are supposed to help me find her. Fuck, it sounds stupid…"
"It's not just hope, Chloe," Steph cuts in. "We know the visions mean something."
"Some of them, maybe. But a lot of them are bullshit, and I guess that book is one of those."
"Everything being connected," Samuel says, "is Chaos Theory in a nutshell. What may seem random to us has an underlying pattern. Changing one tiny thing can lead to a wildly different outcome. This is known as the Butterfly Effect."
"When the door closes, a window opens," Max Caulfield says in the Blackwell bathroom. A blue butterfly just landed on the rim of Samuel's bucket. "Or something like that. OK, girl. You don't get a photo op like this every day."
"Yeah, which would be real fucking helpful if I could travel back in time to prevent Rachel from disappearing," Chloe says, "but since I can't…"
"What about the other two books?" Steph asks.
"Pharsalia… well, it describes the battle of Pharsalus, which decided the civil war between Caesar and Pompey."
"Sounds helpful as fuck," Chloe scoffs. "Were they fighting in Arcadia?"
"In Thessaly."
"Oh, is that Thessaly, Oregon?"
"Is there anything supernatural in it?" Steph asks, cutting her off.
"Funny you should ask that, Steph Gingrich," Samuel says. "Pharsalia is, in fact, famous for being non-supernatual and realistic, by ancient standards. The only supernatural scene in it that I can think of is about the witch, Erichtho."
"The witch?" Chloe repeats.
"Yes, they come to her to predict the outcome of the battle, and she does this really gruesome ritual with a dead body. Some say she actually travels into the future to see how the battle ends. Speaking of time travel," he adds.
"Really?" Chloe perks up. She pulls out her phone. "Maybe I should learn more about this ritual…"
Steph gives her a worried look.
"What about the fire and the raven?" she asks hurriedly.
"That's a fire origin story. But it does involve kidnapping and ransom."
"Does it involve dark rooms?" Chloe asks, eyes glued to the phone display.
There is no answer for long enough to make her peel her eyes away from her search engine and look up. She sees Steph first, who is watching Samuel, so she follows her gaze, finding Samuel frozen with an expression half-incredulous and half-pained, looking directly at her.
"Why did you say that?" he asks.
"What? Dark rooms? Because in one of these visions, I saw Rachel stuck in a dark room with no exit."
His eyes narrow into a squint, which is a weird look on him somehow.
"Why?" Chloe asks. "You've seen it too, didn't you?"
"No," he says, shaking his head. "No. Not… recently. I really should get back to work."
"The hell you are," Chloe says. "Not recently? What the fuck does that mean?"
He shakes his head again and starts walking away, discovers the broom in his hands, hesitates, turns his back to them and starts sweeping again.
"Samuel, if you can tell us anything that will help us find Rachel…" Steph says.
"No. It has nothing to do with Rachel. This is something… from the past. From when I was a child. A bad memory."
He sweeps on. The girls exchange looks. There is a silent agreement to leave it alone. For now, Chloe's face clarifies.
"OK Samuel, one last question. Do you know what the Tillamook did to free the Raven in exchange for his fire?"
"No," he replies without turning, "but if it's an obscure tribal legend, Ms. Grant might know something about it."
"Ms. Grant! Of course!"
"Thanks, Samuel," Steph says.
He does turn around then.
"Keep digging, Chloe," he says. "Think of what is the opposite of the Dark Room."
Confused, they leave without remembering to check the shed.
"That was weirder than usual," Chloe says as they enter Blackwell's courtyard. "I'm not even sure if we just talked to Samuel, or I had a flashback. Like, there's this post-flashback hum in my head now. Something I have to make sense of."
"We definitely talked to him," Steph confirms. "I wonder what happened when he was a kid. And what's the opposite of a dark room?"
"You earn a spot on the squad, Twitch," Drew North says, holding Nathan's portfolio just out of his reach. "You don't have your dad try to buy off the coach."
They are near the steps leading to Blackwell's front entrance. It's a perfect May morning, but Chloe Price is about to go inside, fully intending to attend Ms. Grant's Chemistry class.
"At least my family pays tuition." Nathan spits. "How much financial aid does your deadbeat dad need again?"
"My dad lost his job at the shipyard when your dad closed it down. And you wanna talk shit to me?"
"Fuck," Chloe grimaces when the flashback winks out. "I'm not getting any better. These fuckers are extra crispy today."
She feels like she's about to get a nosebleed or something.
"What?" Steph watches her with concern.
"Might be best for you to go in and find Ms. Grant alone," Chloe says. "Prescott may or may not have ratted me out, but either way, I'd rather not run into him or Mustache from Planet Dipshit right now. Especially not like this. I'm liable to stab somebody."
"OK, I hope she still teaches in her old room."
"And if you have to ask, just tell them you're an alumnus or some shit, looking to rekindle with your favorite old teacher."
"That would be alumna."
"OK, Latin snob. I'll wait for you in the truckus et al."
"Chloe! You are trespassing again!"
David Madsen appears out of nowhere. Why is it some people vanish into thin air and some assholes appear out of it, and it's not the other way around?
"Just leaving, Sarge," she says with a voluminous roll of her eyes. "And we are not trespassing. Legally, we are a couple of alumnas visiting our old alma mater."
"Insubordination," David grumbles reflexively, though his heart doesn't seem to be in it.
"Since I'm in town," Steph tells him, "I wanted to visit Ms. Grant. Do you know if she still teaches in the same classroom?"
At the mention of the teacher's name, David's face hardens even more, and he strikes the question from the records.
"Waste of time with the weirdo janitor, then?" he asks Chloe instead.
"No. Samuel was very helpful," she replies. "Give Ms. Grant my best, Steph."
As the girls move in the opposite directions, David hesitates for a moment, before hurrying after Chloe.
"Hey, Chloe, hold on a second."
"No time for chit-chat. Real busy at the moment."
"Stop, soldier. That's an order!"
"I'm not screwing around, soldier. Open this door. I'm giving you exactly three seconds to open the door. One… two… three…"
"God fucking dammit," she says, spinning around to face him. "All these years and you still can't figure out that you don't talk like that to me, asshole? What, you keep thinking one of these days something will click and I'll start obeying you and calling you sir? How stupid can you actually be?"
Something flashes across David's eyes. His whole body twitches. She grins at how familiar that looks.
"Whoa. What was that, David? Did you just almost hit me?"
He takes a deep breath and a quick glance around.
"You just keep pushing those buttons, missy. I don't care what you think or say about me, but you need to stop lying to your mother. You're hurting her."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You told her I told you to move out."
"You did say that."
"I never said that!"
"Who are you trying to gaslight right now? Me, or yourself? You literally said 'If you're such a grown up, get a job, move out, live alone.'"
She says his part in a mocking hillbilly accent while making a stupid face. He seems to recall it and be shocked at the memory to the point that he doesn't even register her disrespect.
"That's out of context. I… didn't mean it that way."
"You are the one lying to my mother, asshole. Her and everyone else."
"I have to get back to work right now, but we'll talk more about this at home. You can be sure of that. And I don't want to you see you on campus again."
She flips the old double bird at his back, then turns around and heads for the parking lot.
Frank's RV is parked next to her truck. As she sees it, her mind automatically runs a query on how much she owes and what her chances are of scoring a nickel. This makes her remember the weed she stole from Nathan. Just the thing to pass the time while Steph hunts down the old chemistry teacher.
The RV door opens, wrecking the good vibes she's getting from anticipation, but only briefly. The person who comes out is not a Prescott and not even Frank Bowers, but instead a long-haired youth in a studded leather jacket. Chloe knows the guy. Steve. Thinks he's a singer. Really into The Ramones.
"Chloe Price," he greets her. "Here to enroll?"
"Yeah. I figured if they let a deadbeat like you come here still, I should have a chance."
"Shit. You can have my spot. I'm outta this bitch in three weeks. Going up to Seattle. Join a band."
"Seattle sucks," she says.
"No, it felt like a real city for artists, big and bright," Max says in the cabin of Chloe's truck. "Great for taking pictures."
"Arcadia Bay sucks," Steve replies.
"True..." Chloe says.
"Hey!" Frank shouts through the closed door. "Go have a fucking conversation somewhere else!"
"I'll see you around," Steve says with a salute and heads back towards the school.
"It's a free country, asshole," Chloe mutters, climbing into the truck. "Acting like he didn't just break fifty laws."
She finds Nathan's weed, then rummages in the glove compartment until she locates an old, almost empty pack of rolling paper. The weed smells thick and sticky. Smells like expensive shit. She rolls up a thin, elegant joint, smells it again, then sets it on fire. Fuck, it feels good to hold it. She holds it like she's diving for pearls, and when she finally exhales, almost no smoke comes out, which makes her chuckle. Her eyelids slide down to halfmast. When two minutes later Frank's frowning face inevitably shows up in the RV window, they don't rise.
"Oh, yes, Price, please smoke weed right next to my RV," Frank says.
"Hey, I was here first."
"I don't give a shit. Fuck off. I'm working here."
"Oh yeah? Doing what?"
"I said fuck off, Price. Don't make me angry."
"Chill, Frank. I'm waiting for Steph."
She can tell he's got about a million questions, but he's a tough guy, so he won't be asking them. She drifts away for a bit, until a door being slammed shut brings her back.
"I'm going to take Pompidou for a walk," Frank says, twisting the key in the lock. "When I come back, your incriminating ass better be gone."
"Sure, Frank."
"Where did you even get the weed?" he does ask then.
"From Nathan," she says, with a giggle.
He ponders it, shakes his head, climbs the barrier and disappears into the woods.
It's super fucking peaceful when he leaves, and Chloe drifts away again.
She's in this boat, in the middle of the sea. The sun is warm and bright as hell, to the point where you can't even open your eyes but only squint around with one eye at a time, and all you can see is water and sunlight reflecting off the water. The waves are small and gentle, just big enough to rock the boat and make these soft splattery sounds against the hull. She drifts like this, rocking, for maybe a week, until she hears thunder, and not a sudden crack or an explosion, but a gradual build up like a huge bolder rolling closer and closer until it's not a boulder but a mountain that's about to roll right over her and crush her and this huge shadow blocks the sun and she squints at it and it's a huge fucking bird that swoops in and grabs her and her boat in the talons and lifts her way up into the sky and fucking drops her. She can feel herself falling and spinning round and round and the water rushing closer and closer, until she hits the water, hard, and...
...wakes up kicking and kicks the wheel again and it hurts like the first time.
"Oh, sorry, Chloe," Steph says. "Didn't know you were sleeping."
She stares at Steph, as the polaroid of her brain fades in and becomes legible.
"Shit," she says. "I guess I knocked out for a bit there. Did you find Ms. Grant?"
"I did, and guess what?"
"What, Steph?"
"She knew what the natives did."
"And what is that?"
"They burned it."
"Huh?"
"The raven taught them how to make fire, and they burned the prison down to free him."