Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
That was how the police described my mother at first.
Missing.
We’ve lived in the agonizing limbo between missing and murdered ever since.
“She went missing two days ago,” Jim continues. “Her family is Cherokee, and they live not too far from one of those pipeline construction sites. Third girl to go missing this year from this community. I don’t have to tell you what this could be.”
No. Tales of young girls missing, held hostage, raped by horny men far from home for long stretches of time, certain if they could hurt any woman with impunity, it would be one of ours.
“Time and visibility are of the essence,” Jim says. “We need as many people to hear about this as fast as possible. The longer this goes, the less chance we find her.”
“Yes, for sure.”
“This is happening all the time to our women. Underreported. Undervalued. We want to make some noise and get her face everywhere. Any leads we can find. Anyone who can help. At the town meeting, I’ll talk about her, but I’ll also talk about how she’s one of too many.”
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, keeping my voice level even as panic rises on the young girl’s behalf.
“Speak. I want you to tell your story, Lennix. I want you to tell your mother’s story.”
My mother’s story has no end. Her life was interrupted mid-sentence—a dangling participle. An infinite etcetera of dots but no period. I know what this girl’s family is feeling right now, and I can only pray they won’t have to live with the unending mystery of what has happened.
“I don’t want to seem like I’m exploiting this situation,” Jim goes on, “but I do believe gaining visibility for this case may help us find her and also raise the issue of why this keeps happening. With the election coming up, I want people to know I care about this—that if they elect me, I’ll work hard for our women. I want them to know that I see them. I hear them.”
Can you see me? I don’t think you can.
My own words from the pipeline protest four years ago drift into my memory. That moment and this one feel like two ends of a cord finally tying together. And at that point, in that knot, my passion and my purpose meet.
“Jim, I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER 23
MAXIM
“You’re distracted.”
The words come from one of the most formidable men I’ve ever met. Brock Grimsby stands about six inches over six feet and as wide as a billboard. Think the Rock but without a comic eyebrow. Without a comic anything. I’d hate to meet him in a dark alley, but I’m happy as hell he’s coming with us to Antarctica.
“Excuse me?” I fake imperiousness and obliviousness.
“You’re distracted,” Brock repeats. “I can’t afford it now, and I for damn sure can’t afford it in the middle of Antarctica. I know what you look like focused, and you ain’t focused, brother. I need to know your head’s gonna be in the game.”
“My head’s in the game.” I glance at my phone to see if I’ve missed a call from Lennix. “Don’t worry.”
“Oh, I do worry. That egghead may be the leader, but you’re the smartest man in the room.”
I glance over to Dr. Larnyard, the professor who funded this expedition with a hodgepodge of grants from the British government, endowments from a climate change research foundation, and donations from select private benefactors. He’s a brilliant scholar, but he’s no Shackleton. I’ve read Shackleton’s journals. He combined the physical prowess, innovative brilliance and unassailable will it took to lead his team through the worst conditions. Convincing his men they would not die in the frozen wasteland of the Antarctic when there was every indication they would stretched his leadership to its limits, but he was up to the task.
No, Dr. Larnyard is not Shackleton.
“He’ll be fine, Grim,” I say, using the shortened version of his last name that also describes his general demeanor.
“I know he will because you and I will make sure, but I need your complete focus. This isn’t something you do lightly. Make no mistake about it. We’re on the last flight in until November. Anything happens once we’re there. We’re on our own. Men have died in the Antarctic, and if you aren’t prepared for the worst, you could, too.”
He doesn’t have to remind me of the risks involved with this expedition. I’ve taken every physical, emotional and psychological test they could come up with to ensure I’m prepared and suited for the isolation of wintering over. I’ve signed every waiver ensuring that if I die, no one is to be held responsible but me.
Our team consists mostly of scientists and doctoral students like me. There are a few unexpected additions. Kind of like when we send teachers up into space. An everyman’s perspective on something extraordinary. This will be our rocket ship. Because of the extreme isolation, psychologists actually do study these conditions to analyze how astronauts are affected in space.