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The first part of the chapter recounts Eleanor’s relationship with her sister Maggie, as well as her relationship with Doug. Eleanor is two years younger than Maggie; as girls, they were almost inseparable. However, when Maggie went to college, Eleanor panicked about the possibility of being alone. She quickly realized that dating men allowed her to avoid that feeling of abandonment, and she spent the next decade or so seeking “couplehood.” with boys. When Maggie met Doug three years earlier, she overlooked his eccentric behavior, self-admitted lack of boundaries, and alcohol misuse. He’s “sweet” during the day and provides Eleanor with the companionship she craves. However, he dislikes David’s politics and wealth, even as he covets it. Several months before the plane crash, Eleanor and Doug had moved to Westchester to open a restaurant, but those plans stalled, and Doug is drinking more than ever, causing problems in their marriage. Now, however, Maggie, David, and Rachel are dead, and Eleanor and Doug stand to inherit “more money than they could ever spend” (109).
Three days after the crash, Eleanor and Doug attend the reading of the will. Eleanor knows any money will belong to JJ, but she senses Doug has designs on it. A lawyer informs them that JJ’s trust is worth $103 million; over $10 million will be available to Eleanor and Doug for guardian expenses until he turns 21. While Eleanor tries to absorb the responsibilities of her new role as executor of the trust and as JJ’s guardian, Doug keeps asking about the money and assets. Nevertheless, on the drive home, Doug promises her, “We’re in this together” (115). Maggie feels more alone than ever, even though she also realizes that taking care of JJ means she won’t ever be alone.
Scott’s second painting is a series of three canvases. In the center painting, a woman emerges from a cornfield. Although the sky is an “ominous” gray, she shields her eyes against a bright sun. The canvas next to it depicts a red clapboard farmhouse. An arm extends from an open storm door. The woman squints in the direction of a third canvas, depicting an approaching tornado. When the three canvases are examined as a whole, it becomes clear that the person in the storm cellar is shutting the door, locking the woman out.
Twenty-nine-year-old Leslie “Layla” Mueller is the daughter of a billionaire and a supermodel whose personal wealth dwarfs that of people like David Bateman or Ben Kipling. She has the wealth and cache to “anoint” the next big artist, and both Magnus and Scott are aware of this power when they meet her at her four-story brownstone in Greenwich Village. Ignoring Magnus, Layla tells Scott that she’s been “obsessed” with him and says that she was on a flight piloted by James Melody a couple of months earlier. She offers to throw a party in his honor—Scott quickly declines—and praises his recent work. When Layla mentions her therapist, Scott suddenly remembers having to catch a bus to the airport to make the plane and how he had been wracked with anxiety about returning to New York and the art world. He shares little of this with Layla but does agree to accept her hospitality as a way to avoid the press. Just then, Layla gets a Twitter notification: The bodies of the plane crash victims have been found.
A few days before the accident, Ben Kipling attends a business lunch. While they are alone in the men’s room, his business associate reveals that the FBI has been looking into their financial dealings. Kipling becomes nervous but hides that from the other guests at the lunch. As he settles back in at the table, Ben thinks about his lifestyle: a 10-bedroom estate in Connecticut, a “house manager” to serve his every whim, and a fully stocked wine fridge. As baseball highlights play on the television in the background, Ben worries that the Swiss bankers he and his associates are dining with could be undercover FBI agents, but he decides to forge ahead with the deal anyway—investing foreign funds illegally. “It goes in dirty and comes out clean” (132), Ben assures his clients.
Sarah Kipling meets her and Ben’s daughter, Jenny, at the Whitney Museum. Jenny is engaged, and Sarah wants information about her fiancé’s parents prior to their dinner that evening. She hopes Ben won’t embarrass them by talking endlessly about money; Jenny confesses that her future in-laws feel intimidated by the Kiplings’ wealth, though Sarah tries to downplay their privilege. As they walk through the galleries, Sarah thinks about the early years of her marriage and about staying home to take care of Jenny once she was born. Considering their financial situation—“hundreds of millions of clean currency stashed in the Caymans” (140)—leads Sarah to wonder whether the entire point of her existence is just spending money.
When Ben returns to his office, two agents from the Office of Foreign Assets Control of the Treasury Department are waiting to have a “casual conversation” with him. They suspect his law firm is laundering money for governments hostile to the US. Barney Culpepper, the firm’s in-house counsel, tries to intimidate the agents by mentioning powerful friends, but they are unfazed. The agents inform Kipling and Culpepper that they are building a strong case against the firm, and Culpepper dares them to file a suit. At dinner, Ben is still unsettled by the agents’ visit, despite Culpepper’s attempts to assuage his fears. To escape from having to make conversation with his soon-to-be in-laws, Ben goes outside and smokes a cigarette. A man approaches and makes small talk with him, which quickly develops a threatening undercurrent when the man alludes to having been in prison in Kyiv and Shanghai. A car pulls up and idles along the curb. Ben tries to reenter the restaurant, but the man blocks his way. He warns Ben to “protect the money” at all costs (148)—even if it means going to jail.
On the way to Martha’s Vineyard, Sarah scolds Ben for his behavior at dinner. If his work is that stressful, she says, perhaps it’s time to retire. Ben resents Sarah’s lack of appreciation for his skill at making money, but he nevertheless apologizes for being rude to Sarah’s fiancé’s parents. He realizes that his wife thinks their wealth is a moral failing, while he believes that the millions they donate to charity give them moral capital.
On the morning of the crash, Sarah browses at the farmers market while thinking about the fight she and her husband had the night before. She had been surprised by how apologetic he had been about taking her for granted, not yet understanding how close his business dealings were to collapsing. She sees Maggie Bateman and Scott Burroughs chatting with “an intimacy between them that felt more than casual” (153). When Maggie sees her, though, she greets her openly, without guilt. Maggie asks Sarah if she and Ben are going back to Manhattan that day and invites them, along with Scott, to join her and her family on the plane.
Sarah returns from the market and tells Ben about Maggie’s offer. He sees an opportunity to consult with David, another “mogul” with highly placed connections which might give him a legal advantage. As they reach the airport, Culpepper calls. Indictments have been issued, and federal agents will arrest him in the morning. On the tarmac, one of the mechanics says, cryptically, “I wouldn’t wanna be flying in this” (160). Ben is overcome with anxiety until he remembers all the precautions he’s taken in the event of such a scenario. Ultimately, he believes his wealth will insulate him.
Through an act of “moral bullying,” Bill Cunningham manages to leverage David Bateman’s death to save his job, blustering that he is the only person capable of covering the story. Thus, on the morning after the crash, Cunningham vows on the air to solve Bateman’s “murder” and bring the perpetrator or perpetrators to justice. As the bodies are discovered throughout the day, Cunningham stays on the air and continues to spin his conspiracy theories, questioning how much Scott knows and speculating about indictments pending against Ben Kipling. However, when the story fails to develop in the next couple of days, Cunningham meets with his long-time contact and fixer, Namor, who has tapped the phones of the families of the crash victims, including Eleanor and Doug. Namor has not managed to turn up much on Scott, whose digital footprint is limited, at best. Cunningham is obsessed with finding dirt on Scott; he sees him as a “fraud” not deserving of his heroic status. Namor assures him that, sooner or later, some evidence will turn up.
Scott remains isolated, watching the semi-accurate public version of his life unfold on television. The media keeps calling him a hero, and he’s been recognized on the street and in the subway. Most people are respectful of his request not to be photographed, but at least one woman calls him an “asshole.” After a couple of days, he stops going outside. Among the stark white walls of Layla’s third-floor guest apartment, Scott ruminates on the bodies that have been found—Emma Lightner and Sarah Kipling—as well as all the others who have not been located. He thinks about his home and his dog, unable to deal with the gauntlet of reporters camped out there. He thinks of JJ, of the bond between them, and wonders if his obligation to the boy stops there, with a life saved, or if the bond requires more. On an impulse, he calls Eleanor. JJ, she says, doesn’t talk or express much emotion at all. She tells Scott she’s been trying to make things as “normal” as possible to allow time and space to process the events, but she doesn’t know if JJ truly understands what has happened.
Scott attends Sarah Kipling’s funeral and is immediately struck with survivor’s guilt. He notes the presence of Gus Franklin and the other government agents. After the ceremony, he is approached by Michael Lightner, the father of the flight attendant, who thanks him for saving JJ. Scott mentions that he had been spurred on by the thought of Jack LaLanne. Lightner, a pilot, tells Scott he’s heard nothing unusual or suspicious about the flight, and asks Scott if he can remember anything about his daughter’s last moments. The agents—Gus Franklin, O’Brien of the FBI, and Hex from the Treasury Department—stop Scott as he is getting into a cab. They inform him that the search has been postponed due to weather conditions. Although Gus tries to discourage it, O’Brien and Hex question Scott aggressively about his relationship with Maggie. O’Brien threatens to confiscate his paintings as evidence of Scott’s fascination with disaster and potential culpability. While the other agents insinuate guilt, Gus simply asks: “Why do you paint what you paint?” (188). Art, Scott responds, is a way for him to make sense of randomness. He invites the agents to view his paintings anytime.
Knowing that he has been followed from the funeral, Scott descends to the subway platform at Penn Station. He ducks into the train, trying to hide his face, and attempts to lose the photographer by going uptown and catching a bus back to the Village. Layla comes into the kitchen of the guest unit as Scott is finishing dinner. She notices that he’s covered the liquor cabinet with a blanket, and Scott tells her that he has an alcohol use disorder. Layla’s response is flippant, and she flirts with him before leaving. In bed, stares at the white walls, imagining a blank canvas upon which he can project any life he chooses.
Gus knows that his superiors are frustrated with the pace of the investigation. The bits of the plane recovered so far have provided limited information about the cause of the crash, and Gus also has to contend with the other agencies interested in the passengers. On the Thursday after the crash, Gus meets with 25 “bureaucrats” to go over what they know so far. Each agency has a theory that comports with its own agenda; the Treasury, for instance, is ready to conclude that Ben Kipling was the target. While the others spin stories about terrorism and international intrigue, Gus thinks about Scott and JJ. He had visited JJ at Doug and Eleanor’s house a few days earlier, but the boy was unable—or unwilling—to talk about what had happened. Gus had also met with Senator Birch, the uncle of co-pilot Charlie Busch, but all Gus can tell him is that Busch had switched routes with a colleague at the last minute. The senator asks Gus to give him a “heads-up” if it looks like he will uncover any information that reflects poorly on Charlie. Back in the Thursday meeting, Gus is startled when O’Brien says he’s seized Scott’s artwork. Gus fires him from the task force.
Scott’s third painting depicts an underwater scene, with black crosses in the murk. The letters USS are visible, sinking out of view. As the objects become discernable, the crosses turn out to be bodies.
Chapter 23 is a transcript of Bill Cunningham’s special report on the ALC revealing a leaked memo from O’Brien to Gus Franklin. The memo outlines the main theories surrounding the crash, and O’Brien urges Gus to give more credence to the possibility that Scott has something to do with it, citing interviews about Scott’s alleged relationship with Maggie Bateman and the subjects he depicts in his paintings. Since Cunningham has already been casting aspersions on Scott, he treats the document as a “bombshell” and questions Gus’s failure to pursue this line of questioning.
Eleanor is distressed to see an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway when she and Doug return home. She is even more surprised to find Bill Cunningham in the kitchen with her mother. She checks on JJ, who is in his room, and brings him downstairs, assuring him that he doesn’t have to talk to the man in the kitchen if he doesn’t want to. Cunningham greets JJ as the “little prince,” and Eleanor warns him not to say too much about the fate of his parents and sister. He claims his visit is purely personal, as he was Rachel’s godfather, but Eleanor is skeptical. Doug starts to feel ignored by Cunningham. While he drinks a beer in the kitchen, Cunningham thinks back to the scene in Don Liebling’s office a few hours earlier, when Gus Franklin demanded to know who leaked the memo. Bill didn’t tell them, but once the agents leave he tells Liebling that it was O’Brien—even though it was really Namor. On his way out, Bill asks them if they’ve heard from Scott, and Doug reveals that he’s been in contact with Eleanor. Bill casts doubt on Scott’s motives.
Later, Eleanor takes JJ to the playground and tries to make sense of everything that’s happened, including Bill’s visit. She realizes JJ will likely have no memory of his real parents. She is surprisingly comfortable with stepping into the role of mother, but she’s less able to see Doug as JJ’s surrogate father. Before she and JJ return home Eleanor resolves to sell the real estate, put the money into a trust, and allow her and Doug a minimal monthly stipend to cover the costs of raising JJ.
The chapters in this second section intensify the theme of The Interplay Between Perception and Reality by exploring the background of both the crash victims such as the Kiplings and supporting characters such as Eleanor, sister of Maggie Bateman and aunt to JJ, Layla Mueller, and Bill Cunningham. The chapters on the Kiplings, which chronicle, among other things, the money laundering case being built against Ben and the mounting stress this causes for him, extend the theme by showing how the perceptions created by wealth can mask more fraught realities. While Ben enjoys the game of acquisition and the significance that comes from wealth and philanthropy, Sarah finds that wealth makes her existence seem less significant: “And these days—in the unstructured hours of her life—Sarah wondered, was she staying alive now just to move money around?” (140). Sarah feels guilt over their wealth, wondering why they were lucky enough to hit the lottery while so many others struggle. Sarah sees wealth as arbitrary and ephemeral, a blessing bestowed randomly by a capricious universe, and for that, she must apologize to the less fortunate by donating to charitable causes and by simply being a good person. rendering her days idle.
Meanwhile, as Scott wrestles with his unsought fame, dodging photographers and eventually isolating himself in Layla’s brownstone, the narrative expands the theme of Media and the Cult of Celebrity, as well as on the disconnection between perception and reality. Although Scott does his best to be polite to strangers who accost him on the street, he knows he must enforce boundaries—he won’t allow his picture to be taken, for example, a boundary that garners antipathy from some. Scott feels his life is no longer his own, but a commodity for public consumption. He begins to dissociate himself from the media’s version of him, but once he attends Sarah Kipling’s funeral, he gives up the last vestiges of his privacy. The rumors being spread by the media—particularly on ALC—and Scott’s unwillingness to reveal much about himself end up influencing reality to the extent that Scott finds himself in the crosshairs of the government investigation, FBI agent O’Brien is particularly assiduous in his questioning of Scott’s motivations and history, going so far as to have Scott’s paintings legally seized.
While a leaked memo from the investigation, revealed as part of a transcript from Cunningham’s television reporting, would seem to provide a locus of objective truth amid The Instability of Memory, the effect is one of distortion. In the absence of full or even partial information, speculation runs rampant, while Gus seeks to piece together whatever data he has. The source of the memo leak is never identified, but the possibility that it was someone inside the investigation, such as O’Brien, undermines trust among the agents from different federal offices. Even Scott, through his trauma, seeks to understand what really happened. At Sarah Kipling’s funeral, he questions Emma Lightner’s father, a pilot, about details of the investigation hoping he can shed light on an investigation that has yielded more questions than answers. The need to know is so profound that ALC viewers will devour Cunningham’s unsubstantiated rumors just to have something to hang on to.