Blackbird

Tate |Chapter 4

DIRT KICKED UP UNDER THE TIRES as we approached. Hanging Hills was a solitary complex in the California desert flanked by mountains. It lay secluded from the state highway. If you drew a straight line from Disneyland to Thousand Oaks, Hanging Hills sat smack bang in the middle. With the redevelopment of several other desert towns underway, Dad was churning up sand quicker than people could picket to stop it.

Today was a level display of architectural triumph and a self-celebration event. Company flags thrashed in the Gabriel Mountain winds. Apart from the mountains, and sprawling desert, was a large-scale retirement home nestled behind the Hanging Hills country club. The latter stood tall and proud, its imposing stone façade casting long shadows across a patch of manicured fake grass. It was here that my father would be hosting the press junket, using the setting to drum up support for his latest venture—a venture that, unbeknownst to him, would serve as the backdrop for our rebellion.

"Wow," Alex breathed, taking in the sight. "This place is... something else."

"Tell me about it," I muttered.

My next move was still under debate in my head. Arriving with Alex alone felt like enough of a snub, but being here now, I wondered what else I could do. It was hard to imagine anyone wanting to live out here, let alone pay top dollar for a cookie-cutter house.

The sun pierced the sky over the tops of the mountains; foliage, hardy pines, and rock formations littered the valley walls. We pulled in, parked, and grabbed our sunglasses. Alex's dark navy suit and loosened skinny black tie gave the impression he'd already returned from a night out. Something about his deconstructed image was incredibly attractive to me.

Pockets of people with press badges dotted the desert landscape, milling in and out of erected cabins that housed the redevelopment plans. It was a bold display of power considering, fifty yards away, The Meadows still operated business as usual. Its aging clientele gathered with sullen frowns and not-so-quiet whispers about the nerve of my father, the local council, and its sponsors.

One minute outside on a day with a forecast of 'burn in hell' was enough. Alex and I traded pained glances as we slammed the car doors shut as a wall of oppressive heat enveloped us.

"So, what happens at these things?" Alex asked. He readjusted his jacket, tugging down on his shirt sleeves.

"We encourage the public to view the redevelopment plans. Then, developers mingle, answer questions, and get the press onside before the conference tomorrow. That way, there should be no surprises."

"But why do it at all?" he asked.

"Because people believe the news. If someone tells you something is good, you not only believe it, you might tell three other people the same thing."

"You know what travels quicker than good press? Bad news. If people don't like something, they are more likely to complain. Take my dad. His story hit the local headlines hard because it gave people something to attach negative experiences to. The news didn't stop at a man who'd made a poor decision and lost his job but about a growing cannabis epidemic—a wider problem with drug dependency in our society." Alex made a 'pfft' sound.

My recollection of the local media storm that dragged Rafael and Parker Realtors into the same spotlight of a national crisis was familiar. "Why did Rafael not take a drug test?"

Alex took in the mountains in the distance. What he said next surprised me.

"Dad refused one. And I didn't hear that from him. It came from Derek, who overheard his court-appointed lawyer."

"If he says he was innocent, why did he never take a test? You have to admit, along with taking a settlement, that doesn't look good."

Alex threw up his hands and shrugged. "There's not a lot he can say after he signed away his voice on the matter. But, listen, it's too hot to stand here." He jolted my arm with a tug and led me to a refuge in a sun-sheltered spot where a group of people were beginning to gather. "Will you answer a question for me?" he asked.