Blog Tour: Evidence of Things Not Seen by Lindsey Lane

Author’s note: When I began
writing EVIDENCE (which was called Particles at that time), I started with the
chapter entitled Comic Book. It was first scene in the book that came to me in
a dream. But as Tommy’s disappearance took on more weight in the story, I
needed to find a classmate of Tommy’s who could introduce the world and the
problem. Kimmie Jo was perfect because she chatters to the Sheriff and spills a
lot of details about Tommy and the school in her nervous patter. (Note: The
author trimmed this chapter in half for purposes of this blog tour.)

Kimmie Jo

Really? I might be the last person who saw Tommy Smythe?

I didn’t hardly even see him, Sheriff. It was Friday afternoon. I was heading back to Fred. You know, Fred Johnson High, because of the Cinco de Mayo dress rehearsal. I had to—um, I had to go home right after school because, well, it was that time of the month and I had to change—anyway, I was driving back to Fred and I saw Tommy coming toward me on that red motorbike of his. Ruby. I heard he calls it Ruby. Isn’t that the weirdest? I mean, I named my dolls but that was like in kindergarten. Is that something boys do in high school—name their vehicles?

No, he didn’t look any different, Sheriff. He was wearing his lab goggles, so he looked like this nerd scientist on a scooter. But that was how he always looked. Tall, skinny, kind of goofy looking. He would have been cute if he tried a little. He only had acne on his forehead but that’s because his hair always hung in front of his face. If you want good skin, you have to take care of it. You know, wash your face and drink a lot of water. For being such a science nerd, you think he’d understand that stuff.

I’m sorry, Sheriff. Tommy was driving away from school. I was going toward school. It was a little ways down the road from here. I hadn’t passed the entrance to the Stillwell Ranch yet. I’d just gone by this place. You know, the pull-out. I really wish people would call it something else. Like the dirt patch. That’s all it is. Do you know that guys at Fred joke about girls putting out at the pull-out and not pulling out at the pull-out? So gross.

Oh, yeah, Tommy. He was coming toward me on his motorbike. It was ten to four. I know because I looked at my watch and knew I’d probably be fifteen minutes late to the dress rehearsal even though I was already speeding. Oops, I probably shouldn’t say that to you.

Did I wave to Tommy? No way. I mean, we’re both juniors but we’re really different. Like on two different planets. No, we’re farther apart than that. He’s like a gas molecule and I’m like a tree. Well, I don’t know what we are. I am so not a science nerd.  We’re different. You don’t hang out with people who are different than you.

I’m really sorry, Sheriff Caldwell. I talk a lot when I’m nervous and I guess talking to you and being the last person to see Tommy makes me nervous.

Unhappy? Tommy? I don’t think so. Why would he be unhappy about being in the science nerd group if that’s who he was? He seemed like a regular nerd. Always reading. Or writing in that notebook. Probably about his scientific discoveries. Isn’t that how nerds act? All kind of preoccupied with things they’re thinking about?

I don’t know if Tommy had a girlfriend. I doubt it. I saw Rachel—she was a science geek—get on the back of his bike once or twice. She wasn’t with him on Friday though. It didn’t look like a girlfriend thing. I mean, he didn’t smile at her or have his arm around her. But I don’t know. Maybe nerd boyfriends act like that.

Tommy was definitely weird. Not in a creepy way. In a really awkward way. Like he was tuned into another frequency. I mean, I’ve been in school with him since middle grade and he was always the weird nerdy kid. But not like an outcast. Just awkward, really awkward. Like one time I was ahead of him in the lunch line and I dropped my spork. It landed right near his foot and all he did was stare at it like it fell from some other planet. I finally picked it up and all he said was, “I wonder if that fell through a wormhole.”

I probably shouldn’t refer to him in the past tense. I mean, he’s only been missing for three days. Do you think Tommy could be dead? Wouldn’t that be creepy awful if I was the last person to see Tommy alive? Like maybe if I’d waved or stopped or talked to him, you wouldn’t be interviewing me about Tommy. Like something might have changed if we’d done one thing different before. You know?