by Matthew Fish
I quietly close the door to the room and make my way to a chair across from Cherie who is still fast asleep. I lean back in the chair and rest my eyes. I was more tired than I realized. I fall asleep.
I awake to a gentle hand against my face. “Ethan…” A voice whispers.
I groggily wake up and try and regain my bearings. For a moment I feel panicked as I do not remember where I am, or what I was doing. As my mind slowly clears, the smell of food fills the air. I see Cherie standing above me. She reaches a hand out and I take it without hesitation.
“I let you sleep,” Cherie said as she leads me to the dinner table.
“What time is it?”
“Dinnertime,” Cherie answers with a smile as she sits me down.
I check my phone, it is a little past five. “I’m sorry about that. That doesn’t normally ever happen to me. I usually can never nap… even when I used to try. I’d just lay there.”
I look at the plate in front of me, I am surprised to see spaghetti and garlic bread. I was sure it was going to be something French related. I spin the noodles with my fork and begin to eat. Cherie mimics my actions and smiles.
“This is great, thank you,” I say as I nod.
“Thank you…” Cherie says as she nods.
I want to ask if she’s mirroring me, but I can tell by the way that she is eating in the exact same manner as I am that she is. I decide to keep quiet and just eat—to simply just enjoy the moment. Sometimes silence in the company of others isn’t really silence at all.
After dinner, Cherie begins to gather the plates. I stop her.
“Please let me, it’s my job.”
Cherie nods once and follows me into the kitchen. She watches intently as I wash the dishes and put them away. Once finished, I realize that it is time to leave.
“I’m going to visit Noah tomorrow, would you like to come?”
“Rest day,” Cherie simply replies. “Noah is… nice, but too busy, too up and down, and noisy… Rest day.”
“Right,” I say as I nod. “Well I should be going.”
“We pack on Saturday,” Cherie says as she hugs me goodbye. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t…” I say as I begin to leave. “I promise. You have a good night.”
“Good night, Ethan,” Cherie says. As I begin to walk down the stairs I look up and notice that she is watching me from a tiny opening from behind her door. Her eyes are sad.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Without a word she slowly shuts the door. I think about going back, but I know it would be considered improper. I am sure that she will be fine after all.
As I relax in bed that night. I laugh to myself at all of the rules I’ve managed to break on the very same day that I’ve been told not to break them. I let her get close enough to harm me—I showed a complete lack of protocol by leaving my cell, my only lifeline in case of an emergency, in the glove box of my car while I snuck an Unstable into a restaurant where people could have been injured… but somehow, I do not care. It all seems so trivial. It was good to see Bobby again, good to know that he was doing well, even if it had only been a little over a few months since we last talked.
Deciding to at least not break one rule that the caseworker set out, I turn on the TV. I am not tired anyway. A spokeswoman from C-Shapes is on television. She is talking about how upset the company is about the loss of Texas and Alaska, and how she and the President of the United States both desperately hope that no other states decide to follow such a destructive path. She announces a new pill; one that will be implemented next month that will greatly reduce the number of Unstables who go Aggro. She also promises that a cure is on the way and will be ready for distribution in less than one year. This new cure will not fix the damage already done to the mind of Unstables, however it will completely prevent them from going Aggro.
The news then flashes to some riots going on in Los Angeles. An Aggro killed another Sitter… however, as the Hunters and the local police force gunned him down, they accidentally killed a four year old girl riding her bicycle in the area. This prompted angry citizens to take to the streets and fight back against the police, throwing rocks through cop car windows and a video is shown of one of the offending Hunters being strung up by his neck with a belt upon a stop light, a warning to other Hunters that the civilians are demanding retribution. On the calmer side of the issue, a candle-light vigil is held where the girl was gunned down. Pictures of her and gifts are piled alongside a telephone pole. It is reported that over a hundred and twenty five rounds were fired between both the hunters and the local police. For once, Unstables weren’t being blamed. However, it was quite a tragedy none-the-less.
The quarantine project in Hawaii is going well. Although there are some reports of Unstables going missing and possibly heading off into the mountains, possibly gone Aggro. Hunters have been dispatched to the area. However, the situation could be very dangerous. They return each night on the ferry with the Sitters and other personnel without a trace of these missing Unstables.
Japan is adopting a similar policy, until a cure is found, by transferring its Unstables to Sapporo to keep them away from the rest of the population. Preparations are currently being made to transport them by a huge converted cargo ship.
I prefer this option much more than the one adopted by Texas and Alaska, and some of the other countries, of simply killing off their Unstables. Either way, to me, none of it seems quite right. My mind wanders back to something that Katharine said… it was almost like they knew Texas and Alaska were going to go—that it was somehow an acceptable loss. I tend to not think about conspiracies or put much stock in all these wild rumors going around—however, it did sound like it was more of a money issue. What did she mean by “not really onboard?” I will never understand—Perhaps, I’m not smart enough. I eventually let it go.
I see a short video about Europe and how they are dealing with the situation the same way we are, I see someone holding up a sign that says ‘Keep hope alive.’ It seems like a good way to end my time of forcing myself to watch the news. I turn of the TV and turn on my city sounds generator.
“Keep hope alive…” I whisper to myself.
6. The Message
“How are you doing today, Noah?” I ask as I enter the basement room.
“No changes,” he says as he looks at me and nods.
“I’m not asking like that…”
“You should, you know… you should be asking—it is protocol after all. You don’t want to get fired from your job, do you?”
“No, I don’t. I just don’t see why it is necessary to be formal all the time,” I say as I lean against the doorway.
“Where is Cherie?”
“Resting today, we had a pretty busy day—we did some shopping, we even—“
“Don’t want to hear about it.”
“Right sorry,” I say, feeling slightly confused and a little hurt. “Do you want to go anywhere?”
“Not today,” Noah says as he turns his attention away from me and begins to type away on an old computer.
“You’re still writing, that’s great,” I say as I approach.
“Make me a grilled cheese sandwich,” Noah says as he turns once more and gives me a look that makes me stop in my tracks. “Please…”
“Hey,” I say attempting to diffuse the strange tension in the room. “If this is about the phone call from the caseworker, don’t worry—they were just checking up on me. Thanks for the good comments by the way.”
“What?” Noah says as he continues to look at me blankly. “Didn’t get a phone call from anyone…”
“Katharine, she gave me you as a case.”
“Oh,” Noah says as he shakes his head. “Of course, I got that. No problem. I have to get some work done here.”
“Right,” I say as I walk away and head towards the kitchen area. I begin the simple process of preparing a grilled cheese sandwich. I take a little more time than I normally would so that I
allow Noah some time to cool off. I can’t quite place what has gotten him so upset. Perhaps, he is just having a bad day. We all have those.
I stall as long as I can and return with a plate with a grilled cheese and a bag of potato chips. I hand it over to Noah. He has stopped typing, but still is sitting next to his computer. He looks concerned.
“Sorry, I forget to get you that beer.”
For a moment Noah laughs, but it fades just as quickly as it comes. “Where is Cherie again?”
“She wanted to rest today—we need to pack on Saturday,” I say with a heavy heart as I let out a sigh and sit down upon the old dusty grey couch. I rest my head against the back of my hands.
“You couldn’t do it?”
“Nah,” I say, disappointed in myself. “I can’t take away someone’s dream like that. I can’t just be like, you think we’re in Paris, that we travelled here on Sunday… when in reality, we haven’t gone anywhere. Oh, and things are really shitty right now for people like you.”
“You don’t agree with what is going on?”
“It’s senseless… I mean I understand fear. But, you, Cherie… you’re all still just people. I don’t see a difference between you and anyone else. I go places and I see signs that say no Unstables… I take Cherie out to get groceries and she gets called a freak, and people stare. The only thing that separates the normals from the Unstables is luck… really, blind stinking luck. It should be me, you know, not you. I know you don’t remember who you were… but you were talented. Cherie was talented. I saw her paintings, they were all amazing. There is nothing amazing about me. It should have been me rather than either of you two. Anyway, you probably heard they’re releasing a better Calm next month and they say a cure is less than a year away. So I think things are going to get better.”
“Most people think we’re not even human anymore,” Noah says as he looks to me and nods. “I was right about you, you’re a good Sitter.”
“Yeah well, I do appreciate that.”
“Did you see that Hunter get strung up.”
“Yeah I did,” I say as I try and shake the terrible image in my head. I dislike seeing violence, especially if I know that it is real… I remember all those action movies before V-Day, I used to have no problem watching someone explode a bad guys head with an assault gun… but, now it all just sticks with me and weighs me down.
“I laughed.”
“I figured you might,” I say as I shake my head. “I guess someone had to pay for what happened.”
“Let’s play a game of chess,” Noah says as he gets up and walks over to the board. “Before I get all stupid again and incoherent.”
“Alright,” I say as I get up and sit across from him. “You’re going to win this time, right?”
“I am, and after this I want you to leave for the day.”
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask. There is something strange going on with Noah today. I hope this is not a sign that something bad might happen—then again they say there are no signs per se. If he was going to go Aggro it would just happen.
“Just not feeling well,” Noah says as he shakes his head and wipes his tired eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept at all. “The closer it gets to Sunday, the more tired we get. Don’t be surprised if your Mirror wants to sleep most of the day tomorrow.”
“I understand.”
The game begins, I make the first move.
“Take your pill, by the way,” I say as I watch as he scans the board.
“You almost forgot,” Noah says as he gets up and goes over to the drawer and pulls out the bottle and takes out one of the pills. He tosses the bottle back into the drawer and swallows it without any water. “Not a good sign.”
“Second day in a row,” I admit, regrettably.
“Maybe there’s a reason for it,” Noah says as he shrugs. “It being your first week and all that nonsense.”
“Probably,” I reply as I move my castle to the middle of the board.
“I’m sure you’ll catch on to everything soon,” Noah says reassuringly as he makes another move.
A few moves later, I find myself losing pieces. In mere minutes, the game is completely over—just as he predicted, Noah has won.
“You beat me,” I say in a bit of a state of shock. I am not displeased in the least. I’m actually happy for Noah. It is almost just like old times. I never thought I’d be so happy to lose again.
“Now you should go,” Noah says as he gets up and escorts me out. “Call into the caseworkers office, just tell them it’s too close to Sunday and I’m getting exhausted and irritable… it happens.”
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” I say as I nod.
“We used to be friends, for a long time right? I remember you said that… anyway, if I went Aggro and you had a gun, could you shoot me? Could you do what it takes to put me down if I were coming for you… if I were going to kill you?”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. “I couldn’t do it to her…”
“You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re new though. You’ll learn how to get a tougher skin.”
“Right…” I say, more confused than before.
“I wrote something, thought you might like to read it. It’s probably babble, but—you said you liked my writing,” Noah says as he retrieves a crumpled up piece of paper and hands it to me, he squeezes his hand over mine. “Read it when you get to the car. I don’t want to know how incoherent I can be. Now get out of here.”
I nod, “I hope you feel better.”
Noah doesn’t reply. He simply walks back into his room and shuts the door behind him. I make my way up the stairs and exit the house. I sit in the car for a few moments, unsure of what to do. I feel a strange sense of rejection. I pick up my phone.
“C-Shapes Office, Katharine…” I say aloud.
“After a few moments she picks up.
“Ethan, do you need anything?” She asks as I can hear her busy typing away in the background.
“I’m out here at Noah William’s residence; he was really irritable today—said that it was getting too close to Sunday and that he was tired. He wanted me to leave for the day, he was pretty adamant about it, actually.”
“That’s fine Ethan, enjoy the rest of your day off,” Katharine replies.
“Thanks,” I say as I pause for a moment. “Is there anything else I need to do?”
“Don’t forget your date on Sunday—if it’s not a love connection you’ll at least pick up a lot of useful tips from a seasoned veteran like her… who goes by…”
“Michelle Sydney.”
“The boy can be taught,” Katharine says with a short laugh. “Anyway, take it easy—get caught up on your sleep. Let me know if it’s like that with Cherie tomorrow. Sometimes these things do happen when it gets close to their hibernation periods.”
“Will do…”
“Thanks, Ethan. Bye.”
I place the phone back into the pocket of my black slacks. I remember the crumpled piece of paper and carefully unfold it. It bears a single message upon its surface, and it is not nonsensical at all. ‘Come back early on Monday, leave your C-Shapes badge in the car… bring the girl. This is very important—Noah.’
Confused I crumple the note back into my pocket. Could this be why he was acting so strangely? I chalk it up to another one of his conspiracy theories and drive away. On my way back I think about checking in on Cherie. However, I know that it is not a good idea. I decide to just head home.
I order some delivery from a local Chinese restaurant. I spend most of the day reading an old favorite book, ‘Watership Down.’ I do not do anything productive. When evening comes I do not even watch the news. I know this is only my fifth day of actual work… however, with the extensive time training and so many new experiences this week, it is nice to relax and do very little for once. Although it reminds me of a time when it was just about
all I did… times I’d rather not remember at the moment. After all, I have a trip to Paris to pack for tomorrow.
7. Packing for Paris
“Are you excited?” Cherie says as she opens the door. She is as giddy a child the night before any given Christmas morning.
“I am definitely excited,” I say as enthusiastically as I can. I do not feel good about myself in the least bit. I wondered how her old Sitter was able to do this… what did she do in these situations? Then again, her old Sitter didn’t seem like she even cared that much—so maybe she just allowed this cycle to happen… just like I am. “I’m glad to see you so happy.”
“We’re going to see it this time, I know it,” Cherie says as she hurries around living room. I had half expected to see her tired like Noah. “This time for sure.”
“How can I help?” I ask as I rub my hands together. If I’m going to do this, I might as well go all in.
“Can you get my luggage from the top shelf of the closet?” She asks as she runs to her bedroom and returns with a pile of fall clothing. “I always need the step stool to reach it but you’re much taller than I am.”
“No problem,” I say as I pull down the small wheeled suitcase.
“Now what to pack,” she says as she digs through her clothing. “It’s going to be cool, so I should dress warm, right?”
“I’d imagine so,” I say as I smile. I do not see what the difference would be as she dresses for fall every day.
“Do you like this black sweater? “
“I think it’s nice,” I say as I nod.
“I should try it on, yeah?”
“If you like,” I say as I shrug my shoulders.
“I’ll try it on and you tell me if it looks good, and then we’ll try something else—I only need like three outfits right? But I need the perfect ones; I mean I want to be dressed perfectly when I get my picture taken in front of the Eiffel Tower…” She says in a quick pace as she runs to the bedroom and slams the door behind her. I have never seen her so frantic.