RED HANDS
“You’re staring.”
“How can you possibly tell that when you’re not even looking at me?”
Kamala shrugged. “Women’s intuition.”
“Cheater.”
She rolled over, careful of Jack’s outstretched left arm that she’d been using as a makeshift pillow. Occasionally, it was challenging for the two of them to cuddle properly since he was all of eight inches taller than her, but after a month of dating, they found a way to be comfortable. Besides, she actually liked their height difference. Wearing his shirts meant she didn’t have to scrounge about for nightclothes since anything of his fit her like a dress.
Jack curled his arm beneath his head and she rested her head on the crook of it, stroking the side of his face. “Do you want to talk about it yet?”
“No,” he said frankly. “Do you?”
“No. But when you are ready, promise me you’ll be honest. Don’t try to spare my feelings. Tell me the truth. Tell me what you want, regardless of how you think it will appear to me. That is all I ask of you.”
Jack swallowed hard, but nodded anyway. “As long as you do the same. I know we’re keeping it a secret for now, but how long do you think we can pull it off with Faye? She knows you too well.”
“I know,” Kamala sighed. “She can see straight through me when I lie. I suppose we’ll have to tell her before long.”
“Do we really have to, though?”
“I imagine she’d notice after a certain point, Jack.”
“Uh-huh. And I can also tell you what her reaction will be.”
“Sadly, yes. She’s going to punch you in the face.”
“Right in the face. She’ll probably break my nose while she’s at it. I’m not so sure I can pull off the Owen Wilson look.”
Kamala patted his cheek. “I’ll protect you, don’t worry. No one’s going to hurt my dragon while I’m around.”
“Thanks.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and slid his hand down along her arm, eventually settling on her hip. He nudged the hem of the shirt aside and flattened his large hand against her lower belly, still flat and toned as usual. Neither of them said anything for a long while.
“I don’t know how people do this every day,” Jack murmured.
“Do what?”
“Deal with life or death situations. I can’t stop thinking about Tokyo and all those people. All those families who won’t see their loved ones again and—”
Kamala laid her fingertips against his lips. “Jack, there is no way back from that road. Once you start blaming yourself for the actions of others, you will not be the man that I have chosen to share my life with, nor the man that so many people admire. I know how you feel. My heart breaks for them as well, but you cannot let it tear you down. We have to be strong for them. We have to live for them instead and make sure that more innocent lives aren’t taken. That is all you should ask of yourself.”
She started to move her hand aside, but he caught her wrist and brought it up enough to kiss her palm. “How’d you get to be so smart?”
“I’m a doctor. We’re supposed to be smart.”
“Point taken.” He kissed her again. She pulled back a second later and licked her lower lip, her brow wrinkled in concentration. “Johnnie Walker black label, aged twelve years.”
Jack stared. “That may be the sexiest thing I have ever heard you say.”
She giggled. “I take it Faye wanted a favor?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Kamala pursed her lips. “And just exactly what are you doing?”
Jack pretended to look innocent. “What on earth do you mean?”
“Your hand.”
“What hand?”
“That hand. You are aware that this is what got us into trouble in the first place?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You’re shameless.”
“You’re not stopping me.”
“We need to go to sleep. No time for fooling around. Besides, Faye is home and…and…”
Kamala let out a dreamy sigh and licked her lips again, trying desperately to concentrate despite the placement and motion of said wandering hand. “And I’ll…mm…never live it down if she hears us…”
Jack smirked as he climbed above her on the mattress, his deep voice mischievous. “I guess we’ll just have to be quiet then, won’t we?”
“You are a terrible person, Dr. Jackson.”
“Guilty as charged, Dr. Anjali.”
As psychiatrist’s offices went, Dr. Lana Lawson’s wasn’t half-bad, at least in Jack’s opinion. It gave the appearance of being cozy without being phony. She kept fresh flowers and miniature cacti on the available surfaces like the windowsill, the edge of her desk, and the center of the coffee table that sat between her big leather chair and the soft burgundy suede couch. The photos on the walls were of famous dancers like Gregory Hines, Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Martha Graham, and Josephine Baker, as dancing was a hobby of Dr. Lawson’s. It gave the room robust personality, and he appreciated it far more than the sterile rooms with generic floral patterns and cliché cat posters.
He had been pacing behind the couch when Dr. Lawson finally walked in, a couple mugs of coffee in her hands. She was tall and slender with dark brown skin. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun and she had a black dress shirt and beige pencil skirt, no jewelry.
“Dr. Jackson,” she said in greeting, setting the coffee mugs down on the table.
“Dr. Lawson,” he said, though without his usual smile.
“Sorry I’m late,” she continued, grabbing her notepad from the desk and taking a seat in her chair. “Traffic. What’s wrong? You said there was an emergency?”
Jack exhaled hard through his nose and gripped the back of the couch. “I know that doctor-patient confidentiality is already in effect, but I still need you to say it aloud. What I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room.”
She nodded. “Understood.”
He took a deep breath. “Kamala is pregnant.”
Lana’s eyes widened. She swallowed. “Oh my.”
“Yeah,” Jack said weakly.
“Oh, Jack, I…how long has it been since you started dating? A little over a month?”
He nodded. She sighed and folded a hand over her mouth, falling silent for a while. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now. Have you discussed what you’re going to do yet?”
“No. And don’t worry—I’m not going to ask you for that kind of advice. It would put both of us in an awkward position. The reason I asked for an emergency session is because I don’t know how to even approach something like this. I mean, I’ve been through some hard times before like being short on rent or having to break up with someone I cared about, but this? Where do I even start?”
“Well, I guess the best thing for us to do is to assess where you are right now. What was your initial reaction when she told you?”
Jack blushed. “I, uh, didn’t take it that well.”
“You had a panic attack?”
He winced. “And fainted. God bless her, she called it a head rush, but I pretty much lost all faculties at once. Blue Screen of Death.”
Lana started writing on her notepad. “Was there anything else that might have exacerbated the situation?”
“She told me during the Baba Yaga attack.”
“Oh, hell, Jack, no wonder you were so distraught.”
“Even so, nothing can erase the mental image of the father of your child fainting,” Jack grumbled. “I suspect that’s going to bite me in the ass someday.”
“Your reaction is still completely understandable. How is she? What’s her mental state?”
“She’s so damn strong,” he said, smiling weakly. “She told me we’re going to take some time to clear up this mess with the rogue dragon before we have a serious discussion about what we’re going to do. It’s strange. I feel like I know her so well, like I know what she’s thinking, but sometimes I think she holds back.
Kam’s got the best poker face I’ve ever seen. She could defuse a nuclear bomb without even blinking. She does more than just handle high-pressure situations; she practically flourishes in them. Truthfully, I think she’s scared too, but not because she wouldn’t be a good mother. It’s the thought of raising a child now, at the height of the craziest part of our lives so far.”
Lana nodded. “So, in your mind, she would be a good mother?”
“Absolutely. She’s tough but fair, clear-headed, and compassionate.”
“And so your anxiety stems from doubts about yourself rather than her?”
“Hell yeah. Have you met me? Remember that little ‘babysit the egg’ thing they made you do in high school?”
“Yes.”
“I failed it in two hours. Didn’t even make it a whole day before I broke the thing. My partner had to cheat and buy an egg with the exact same stamp and everything.”
Lana adopted a rather patient voice. “You do realize a human child is vastly different from an unfertilized chicken egg, right?”
“I know, but it’s the concept. I’m irresponsible. I’m erratic. Hell, I’m selfish. My idea of the perfect night is sitting in my boxers eating popcorn and watching Netflix, for God’s sake. I’ve never had to take care of anything in my entire life.”
Lana arched an eyebrow. “And the dragon you just resurrected from the dead doesn’t count?”
“I…” Jack frowned. “Oh. Good point.”
“Yes,” Lana said, trying not to smile. “It is. Do you understand that there are very few people with the kind of focus and tenacity that you have? People have been trying to clone dragons for decades, and yet you were the only one who was successful. You don’t give up. Once something is set in your sights, you pursue it without question and without faltering. It may seem strange, but it’s not assured that you’d be an unfit parent, Jack. You’ve never had to think of yourself in that sort of context, and considering the tension that is still between you and your parents, I’m not surprised you panicked.”
Jack drummed his fingers on the back of the couch. “I guess I never really thought that would be a factor, but it makes sense. I hadn’t ever thought past where I am right now, if I’d ever have a family somewhere down the line. I’m no spring chicken, but I didn’t think I’d be asking myself that question until I hit the big 3-0. Doesn’t help that I don’t really know anyone with kids either.”
“Why haven’t you thought about parenthood yet?”
“Mostly because I never thought I’d work up the guts to ask Kamala out,” he said. “I thought I’d be doomed as some kind of weird Shakespearean parody, admiring her from afar until I died of a broken heart. Melodramatic, but true. If I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being in love in the first place. Love is just another way to bleed sometimes.”
Lana kept writing and gestured towards him. “Tell me a little more about why you feel that way. Why do you think love is so painful?”
Jack sighed. “That would be thanks to Irene. She was my girlfriend in undergrad. Two years we went out, until I walked in on her and Vince goin’ at it on the goddamn couch. Before her, it was Gina, who basically was happy to toss me aside after she’d gotten whatever it was she wanted out of me back in high school. If you ever wonder why I have trust issues, there you go.”
“Do you feel like they used you?”
“Yeah. I get that a lot, it seems.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not observant enough to tell when someone genuinely likes me or just notices that I can do something for them. Maybe I’m a bit of a doormat in certain respects. Odds are if I saw a total stranger in trouble, I’d be the Good Samaritan even if it turned out bad for me. I’ve always sort of felt like I’m a placeholder friend and people were just waiting for something better to come along. That’s why by the time I hit my doctorate program, I wasn’t really hanging out with anyone. Easier to be alone. You get used to it.”
“In regards to Irene, do you feel as if her cheating was somehow your fault?”
Jack cleared his throat. “I really don’t like the track we’re on.”
“Jack,” she said gently. “This is not about blame. I’m trying to help. Do you think that it was your fault that Irene left you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe I was too boring or I let the romance start to slack off because we’d been together so long and she wanted something new. Last I heard she’s still with the bastard, so maybe it was me.”
“And you loved her?”
“Thought I did at the time. Now that I’m older, I don’t know.”
“How do you feel about it now? Are you still angry?”
“Considering Vince was my best friend at the time, yeah. Plenty angry.”
“I see.” She crossed her legs and reviewed her notes for a moment. “Jack, I think that as odd as it may seem, some of your past experiences are contributing to why you’re so distressed about the pregnancy. You sound like you have trouble letting go. It’s of course common. No one can completely dismiss something that happened to them if it was as traumatizing as someone you cared about leaving you for someone else. I also think that maybe you should reopen communication with your father and see if that might help you deal with your doubts about yourself.”
He scowled. “Not really sure what any of this has to do with him.”
“Well, your relationship with him is…” She licked her lips. “…tempestuous, to put it politely. I think you turned a corner after he finally apologized for breaking your arm when you were younger, but you still give me the impression that you didn’t care for his parenting style.”
“He’s a hard-headed, emotionally constipated zombie.”
Lana cleared her throat to hide a laugh. “Be that as it may, I think you’ve internalized some of his teachings. It’s hard growing up with a father who doesn’t openly express his feelings. It can affect you the same way to a certain extent, or make you afraid that you will be the same with a child someday.”
Jack ran a hand through his hair, unknowingly making the front of it stick straight up. “I’m honestly starting to miss being chased by yakuza. This is ten times worse.”
“You asked for my help. This is simply advice, nothing more. You don’t have to take it.”
“What?” he snorted. “And deal with that judgmental stare forever if I don’t do it? No thanks, doc. I’ll add it to the To Do list.”
They both glanced up as they heard a knock at the door. Lana’s secretary, Judith, poked her blonde head into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s five ‘til and your first appointment is here.”
“Thanks, we’re wrapping up now.” The door shut and Lana stood.
“Sorry, that’s all the time I have.”
“No apology needed. Thanks for seeing me short notice. Though I hate it when you give me homework.”
Lana smiled. “Mental health is an ongoing process, Dr. Jackson. You’re always going to have homework.”
“Guess so.”
She eyed him momentarily and then gave him a hug. “Hang in there, Jack. If it’s any consolation, we’re all rooting for you.”
“Thanks, Lana. Be seeing you.”
He left. Nothing had really changed, but his steps felt a little lighter.
“You know,” Jack said, his voice muffled through the surgical mask over his face. “I’m pretty sure this moment is a metaphor for my life right now.”
“Quite,” Kamala replied, settling one hand on the small reinforced door to the enclosure, the other holding a set of keys. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be. Go for it, angel.”
She shoved the door aside and crouched slightly as she climbed in. Jack hefted the disgusting corpse of a possum in his gloved hands and followed her, quickly sliding the door shut behind them.
His booties met a mound of sand and he took a moment to find his balance before following Kamala towards the bottom of the artificial sand dun
es that made up the home of the diamondback dragons they’d bred recently. The enclosure was more than two-hundred square feet across and nearly half that in length, peppered with cacti, shrubbery, and even an artificial camel skeleton to make the desert species feel more at home. At the bottom of the enclosure sat a small filtered pool, which was his target. Jack laid the carrion next to the pool and stepped back until his back hit the far wall. He reached inside his coverall pockets for his notepad and pen, while Kamala did the same on the other end of the enclosure.
They waited patiently. About five minutes later, the sand dunes appeared to quiver with small bumps. First, brown snouts poked out of the sand followed by pink forked tongues. Then the spade-shaped heads emerged, exposing bright green eyes that became fixed on the dead possum. The largest of the diamondback dragons crawled out and wiggled her way down to the pool, inspecting the creature. She latched her jaws onto its neck and wrestled with the corpse for a minute or two, injecting venom through the bites. Once she was satisfied, she started tearing chunks of fur free and swallowing them. After a while, the other six dragons came forward and tucked in as well. The pack leader stayed in the center, eating the softer parts in the gut, and occasionally glancing up at Jack with her beady reptilian eyes.
“Good morning to you too, Matilda,” Jack said with plenty of sarcasm. The dragon snorted and flapped her wings once, returning to her meal.
He rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe we bred a dragon with an attitude.”
“The wonders never cease,” Kamala agreed. “Still, at least she hasn’t eaten another one of her subordinates, so count your blessings. Look at their scales. The colors are coming in nicely now.”
Along their spines were the designs of their namesake: wide black diamonds that started at their skulls and trickled down to their tails. Each dragon, aside from the alpha, was about the size of Jack’s hand. They’d only hatched a day ago, and their pack behavior had immediately been apparent only hours after their birth. Originally, there were eight dragons, but two of them got into a fight over dominance and Matilda came out the victor. All the other dragons fell in line behind her after that.
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