“Mood changes,” said Eddie, writing: Headaches, hallucinations possibly, paranoia?
“It started three days ago. We all have fevers. I told Dad we should go back to Barrow, but he’s so crazy because we’re behind schedule, after so many accidents all summer, and we still have three more sites to collect samples from before we can go home.
“And the fighting. Mom and Dad NEVER fight, unless it’s over Dad’s stupid labeling on his ice cream or Mom’s terrible driving. Family peace is like end-of-the-world important with them. It’s like they’re one brain/two people, like Borg people saying the same thing. Like, Can I go over to Ellen’s for dinner, Dad? ‘ASK YOUR MOTHER, HONEY.’ Can we have pizza, Mom? ‘WHATEVER YOUR FATHER SAYS, DEAR!’ And now they’re fighting over the samples, the weather, and especially about Clay and… Oh, my God! OH, MY GOD! I think maybe Mom had SEX with him. Nononono!!!!! DISGUSTING!!!!”
The narrative ended but Eddie said Kelley had also recorded other people. Returning to the menu, he found a file titled “BORG PEOPLE” and clicked on it. It was a log of people clearly recorded without their knowledge. I heard my neighbors’ voices — recognizable from our evenings together — but an electric shock went through me. They were the Harmons, all right, but different, sounding harsh and cruel over the computer sound system. The mild-mannered restraint that I associated with them was nowhere in the recording. This was not subtle. This was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
CATHY HARMON: The water, Ted. The fucking water. The water burns, and I will not drink it. I told you to get different water but you never fucking do anything I ask.
TED HARMON: I saw you coming out of the cabin with him. I go out with Kelley for an hour, and you two are in there!
CATHY HARMON: (laughs) Oh, you know what they say, if you don’t use it, you lose it.
TED HARMON: I smell him on you.
CATHY HARMON: I do, too. I love it.
Eddie looked up at me. “Holy shit, One. Are these the same people we know?”
I looked over at Merlin who was still and serious, staring down at the table.
“Merlin?”
“Nothing.”
“Merlin!”
A sigh. “Clay had a crush on her, Joe. He told me at the family Fourth of July dinner. He laughed over it. He never would have done anything about it. He thought she was cute.”
Eddie said, “Sounds like he did do something.”
I shook my head, feeling the rage and confusion, the lust and pain that was palpable in this room, just as present as the appalling personality changes on Kelley’s recording. “Having the urge isn’t doing it. Everyone has goddamn urges. You need something extra to lose control.”
CATHY: He can last hours, Ted. Hours. You want to go for a ride with me now? Come on, a ride. You and me. On the tundra. Like when we used to drive around. You know, blow jobs? In college?
TED: Get away from me. You disgust me.
I said, stunned for the teenager listening to this from her parents, “Write: sexual aggressiveness.”
Merlin sighed, thinking out loud. “You know what?”
“What?”
“Crystal meth. Ingested. We had a few kids on it last year. Hyperactive. Meth mouth. Delusions… hmm… And screwing like rabbits. She said the water tasted funny.”
Eddie shook his head. “You’re thinking all four of them took meth?”
“Or were given it. I’m just saying… I mean, it’s possible, right?”
I said, “Dr. Sengupta is running blood work this morning at the hospital. If any of them had drugs in their system we’ll know by this afternoon. The other chem-screens might take a little longer.”
Merlin pulled a chair over, and sat down. “Well, they’ve had accidents all summer. Clay thought someone was trying to sabotage that project. So if someone was doing that, but it wasn’t working… If someone got desperate to stop them… hell… Maybe someone showed up at the camp, landed on the lake. Float plane.”
“She didn’t say anything about a plane, Merlin. No tracks, either. No marks on the tundra if someone came down on those big balloon-tire planes. Kelley would have mentioned it, I’d think. And come to think of it, who was their pilot? Who took them out there?”
Whoever did that had access to their water.
“I think it was Jens. Yes… Jens.”
“Merlin, if there’s something wrong here, something they ingested, we’re not hearing the Clay you know. None of them are normal. Believe me.”
CATHY HARMON: You could take a few lessons from Clay, Ted. Mouth lessons. Tongue lessons. Fingers. How to beat your three-minute-quickie record, hmm?
I stared at Eddie’s list. I said, slowly, reasoning out loud, “You know: Funny tastes, bright light, numbness, fear of water, sexual aggressiveness. Pretty classic for rabies.”
“Are you kidding? In four people? In a cluster? You have to be bitten by an animal to get it. Four?”
“I’m not saying it is that. I’m just linking symptoms. But you’re right. One person could be bitten. Not four.”
“It’s not rabies.”
“I know.” I sighed. “Still, I’ll ask Sengupta if he found bite marks.”
“What’s in their stomachs?” Merlin said.
The next two recordings had been made twenty-four hours after the first, same time each day, 3 P.M., with Kelley apparently sticking to her homemade scientific method, trying to reduce variables, I told Merlin, “Always taking samples at the exact same time.” I envisioned her hiding her little palm recorder as she and her parents moved around the lake, collecting algae and plants; doomed researchers with glass sample bottles, nets, and tweezers, scooping up seeds, all the while their tempers rising, the barely suppressed rage building toward what would, in less than forty-eight hours, explode into shotgun blasts.
Apparently Clay Qaqulik was also testing water that day, as his voice started the next exchange.
CLAY QAQULIK: There is something out there moving around at night. It’s not an animal.
TED HARMON: (snicker) Yeah, those little imaginary men?
CLAY QAQULIK: I don’t make fun of your culture.
CATHY HARMON: Go eat your fucking ice cream, Ted. Stop it.
TED HARMON: Ah! Yes! Stop! The perfect request, wouldn’t you say so, Clay? To halt? To cease? To hold off?
KELLEY: I can’t stand this.
CATHY: Don’t drink that water, Kelley! Stay away from those fucking bottles, I told you! Use the purification tablets on the lake water if… (cough)… if you’re (coughing)
On the recording, someone was throwing up. Eddie jotted down, on the lengthening list on the yellow legal pad, “coughing.”
KELLEY: I want to go back to Barrow. I want to go home.
TED: Home? What’s the matter with you? Are you deaf? How many times have I told you that we have three more lakes to visit before (gargling noise, grunting)
KELLEY: Why are you making those noises?
TED: (grunting)
KELLEY: Daddy, you’re scaring me.
TED: Fly… argh… in my… (cough) throat.
CLAY: Here’s the last bottle. My eyes hurt. This light… so bright…