by Rick Blechta
“You’re only hurting yourself, Jackie. If you want to discover how to heal yourself, you’re going to have to cooperate.”
When she was finally shown to her room, it was near sunset. She was given her “Sunnyvale outfit”: sweatsuits, jeans, T-shirts and a jacket, all of them either blue, green or a combination, but she had no chance to get into the washroom where Roy had left his package.
Nurse Simpson accompanied her to her room.“We want you to stay by yourself tonight. Dinner will be brought to you in a few minutes. If you need us, we’re just a ring away,” she finished, pointing to a red button on the bedside table.
There was a ceiling-mounted TV, a clock radio and a reading light over the bed. A small table and chair finished off the decor. The only window overlooked the central courtyard.
“How long do I have to stay in here?” she demanded. Simpson stopped by the door. “Someone will talk to you tomorrow. It’s mostly up to you how quickly things happen around here.”
The door clicked shut behind her, the sound of the lock turning was decisively loud in the quiet room.
Jackie flopped onto the bed and stared up at a camera mounted in a tamper-proof case on the ceiling to the right of the TV.
She had to find some way to get into that washroom, and she didn’t have long to do it.
***
Roy headed back to Oakland almost immediately after returning from Sunnyvale.
“I got work to do,” he told Shannon, “and the place never runs well when the bossman’s away. You know that.”
She gave him a big hug. “I’m just glad I have you to count on. You have no idea how much help you’ve been.”
“Oh, I do, I do,” he chuckled, and squeezed her back. “That’s what friends are for. And by the way, your husband’s a fool.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“You happy?”
“Yes. I have a great new guy. He’s a musician. My kids love him. Even my mother likes him.”
“Oh, spare me!” Roy pulled back and looked at her. “But you do look happy. Tell that musician, he doesn’t treat you right, he’s got me to deal with.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Better be. Now, I’m only a phone call away. You know what you’re doing, but if things get out of hand, you know who you can count on.”
“We’ll be fine, thanks to all your gadgets.”
“You going up there tonight?”
“Late this afternoon. I don’t know the terrain well enough to risk being out at night yet.”
“Then you need some night-vision goggles.”
“Don’t tell me,” Shannon said, laughing as Roy began rummaging in his bag.
He handed her the bulky contraption. They always reminded her of some sort of torture device.
“Let me know when you hear from your girl. She may have a hard time getting into the can where I stashed her goodies. If she can’t manage it, we’ll have to go to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?”
He smiled. “Search me. I haven’t thought of it yet.”
Shannon spent her evening on the phone and the Internet, trying to keep all the balls in the air. At least the three-hour time difference made it a bit easier.
Everything was quiet on the home front. The business was easily handled by a short discussion with Janet, who was a careful and steady worker. Shannon had come to rely on her over the past five years.
She reached Andy as he was heading out the door to his gig at the Salamander. “I just wanted to let you know that everything went well today. Jackie is inside Sunnyvale.”
“Any word from her yet? Has she seen Olivia?” He sounded anxious.
“No, but I’m pretty sure I saw Olivia yesterday when we were observing the compound from a hillside.”
“How did she seem?”
“Andy, I was at least seven hundred feet away! Relax. The moment I know anything, I’ll be in touch. Just sit tight.”
Hanging up the phone, she grimaced. He sounded pretty strung out, and that was never a good sign in a client. What this job needed most of all was patience. Shannon felt like somebody who was fishing: she had her hooks in the water, and sooner or later she’d get a bite.
With that thought in mind, she retrieved her notebook from the top of the TV and a photocopy of Olivia’s journal from her laptop case. Leaning back against the pillows on the bed, she began reading and taking notes. Eventually, she opened her laptop and went online again.
“Let’s see if we can find out what’s become of you, Jack Taggart, and why Olivia’s journal entries about you are so conflicted.”
***
Jackie made sure she stayed fidgety her first evening in Sunnyvale, certain that they’d be observing her. One of the primary effects of crack addiction is restlessness, as well as irritability and moodiness. Jackie was a past master of all three, so it was no stretch for her to fake it.
She did not like being locked in her room, so she just amplified those feelings and let herself go. Flipping around the TV channels, pacing the room, even trying to open the sealed window, she thought she put on a pretty convincing show.
Finally, she allowed herself to doze a bit. Around nine thirty, a smiling orderly knocked on the door, then unlocked it without waiting for a reply. Behind him in the corridor was a cart with “healthy” snacks and fruit juices. She really wanted a burger and fries with a beer chaser.
“When am I going to be let out of here?” she demanded harshly. “I don’t like being locked in.”
“It’s not up to me,” he looked down at his clipboard, “Jackie.”
“Who said you can call me by my first name?” she looked at the nametag on his red polo shirt, “Frank?”
“Relax. Everybody’s on first names here. It’s all part of the casual atmosphere.”
“Do you call being locked in ‘casual’?”
Frank shrugged. “It has nothing to do with me. Start behaving yourself, and you won’t be locked in. It’s for your own safety, anyway.”
“What do you mean ‘start behaving myself’? What have I done?”
His eyes flicked over to the window. “Nothing.”
“You’re spying on me! I don’t like it!”
The friendliness was wearing off. “Like I said, Jackie, it’s for your own safety. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have a big problem. We can help, but only if you help, too.”
Jackie had her hands on her hips and watched as Frank’s eyes dropped to take in her body. “Well, thanks for the pep talk. Now get the hell out and leave me alone!”
As the spring-loaded door eased shut behind him, she picked up the clock radio and hurled it. It shattered with a satisfying crash, just as the lock clicked. She looked up at the camera and gave it the finger.
Sitting on the bed, Jackie put her head in her hands, pretending to cry. After a few minutes, she flopped onto her side and curled up into a ball.
Eventually, she dozed off again.
The next morning, a female orderly opened the door sometime after sunrise. The smashed appliance crunched as she walked over to the bed.
“You awake, honey?”
“I am now,” Jackie grumbled as she peered around the blanket she’d pulled over herself during the night.
Surveying the damage, the orderly said, “Looks like you had a bad night.”
“I feel like a pile of shit.” Sitting up, she added, “Are you going to let me out of here?”
“All in good time. Doc Smith wants to talk with you some more, and you’re going to be introduced to the Teacher who’s been assigned to you. After that, we’ll see.”
“When’s all this excitement going to happen?”
“Soon as you’ve had your breakfast. You must be hungry. You haven’t eaten since you got here.”
Jackie was absolutely famished. The things she’d do for her job...
“What can I have?”
Doris – according to her nametag – listed off a bunch of yogurt flavour
s, fruit, juices, smoothies and cereals. All sounded far too healthy, when what Jackie craved was eggs, bacon, home fries and toast with lots of butter.
“What? No pop tarts?”
“One of the things we teach people here is how to make smarter choices in what they eat,” Doris told her patiently.
Staying in character, Jackie waved her hand dismissively. “Bring me whatever crap you want.”
The food, when it came, was good quality. The show biz crowd would expect no less. After that it was a shower (supervised by Doris) and a meeting with Dr. Smith and her Teacher, Barry, a wiry guy with a big nose.
Judging by what she heard, they’d swallowed her story, and the blood tests had backed up the results. A complete program was mapped out; it would start immediately. She feigned disinterest throughout, keeping her arms folded across her chest and looking away.
“We’re only trying to help you, Jackie,” Barry said, “and I guarantee you’ll do much better if you improve your attitude.”
“I’ll improve if you let me go to the can right now, unless you want me to do it here. Fruit always gives me the shits.”
Barry got up, keeping his face suitably blank, but Smith’s was easy to read: disgust.
Just down the hall, Barry stopped and inclined his head. “In here. I’ll be waiting outside. Don’t flush. We need a stool sample,” he added as he held up a plastic cup and tongue depressor.
Once inside, Jackie moved fast. Sitting down on the toilet backwards, she prayed she could provide the sample needed.
Carefully lifting the lid on the water tank, she felt around inside. Shit! No box. She searched again wildly, making sure she hadn’t missed it, cursing under her breath. If someone had already come across it, this operation was toast – or worse.
Trying to keep down the rising panic, she picked up the lid with shaking hands. She didn’t drop it. She didn’t make a sound as she replaced it. Then she felt around underneath the tank.
And there it was.
Turning right way around on the seat, she pulled down her sweats and did what she’d come in for while she also quickly emptied the box, taping various articles to her stomach and underarms, relying on the bulky sweatshirt she’d put on to hide it.
Barry pounded on the door. “You gonna be much longer in there?”
“Almost done!” she called out as she closed the case and reattached it underneath the toilet. Slouching out the door moments later without the cup, she said to Barry, “All yours, buddy. Knock yourself out.”
As he went inside, Jackie smiled broadly. That had been almost too easy.
Chapter 18
The motel bed was too hard, and consequently, Shannon’s back was complaining the next morning. Groaning, she turned over and looked at the clock through one eye. Not even six. It felt as if she hadn’t slept.
There was work to be done. Rising, she turned on the coffee maker, already loaded with both of the pouches that had been supplied. Maybe she’d be surprised this time, and it would actually be worth drinking.
It took a good ten minutes, luxuriating under the warmth of the shower, to get some of the kinks out of her back.
The coffee proved disappointing, but at least it was hot and gave her a desperately-needed caffeine jolt.
Slipping into her muddy jeans and hiking shoes, she puzzled over what top to wear. It might be best to opt for layers. The weather report was for clear and sunny, so rain gear wasn’t necessary, but the day, while cool now, promised to be hot later. She grabbed yesterday’s jacket, since it was already dirty. No sense messing up something else.
Her plan was to go out, check again for word from Jackie, then come back to sort out her other big problem.
After a thorough Internet search, she hadn’t found any trace of Jack Taggart after Bernard St. James III had been murdered.
She had a pretty good idea what had become of him.
***
First thing on the agenda for Jackie that morning was an acupuncture treatment.
The treatment room was light and airy, with two small supply tables against one wall, a couple of chairs, and a wheeled cart with an electrical gadget on it. Dominating all was a waist-high treatment table in the centre. Soft synthesizer music with nature sounds mixed in played from speakers in the ceiling, and several charts of acupuncture points on the body were mounted on the walls.
Jackie eyed everything warily. The nice music and pleasant surroundings didn’t hide the fact that they stuck things in you. She hated needles of any kind.
Doris took a short gown from one of the tables. “Put this on.”
“Do I have to take off my clothes?”
“Yes. You can leave your bra and panties on if you want.”
This was not good. With all her gadgets taped to her body, what the hell was she going to do?
“And just why do I need someone sticking needles in me?”
“It will help control your cravings,” Dr. Smith answered as he walked into the room. “Now get those clothes off, the gown on and hop onto the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’m not going to take my clothes off while she watches.” Jackie indicated the orderly with a flip of her head.
Smith looked at Jackie for a moment, then said, “Wait outside the room, Doris, but don’t go far.”
Jackie slipped her clothes off in record time, then used some of the tape to fasten everything underneath the lowest shelf on one of the small tables. Just as she climbed onto the examining table, Doris stuck her head in the door. Five seconds earlier, and it would have been all over for her little operation.
Smith was brisk and businesslike, giving Jackie a short lecture on the philosophy of acupuncture and what she could expect from it.
“Acupuncture is a large component of our program at Sunnyvale. It allows us to accomplish a number of objectives without resorting to pharmaceutical medications. We’re very against that sort of thing. Our treatment generally relies on natural medicine.
“I’m going to do two things today. One is to give you what we call an ear tack. If you feel any craving for crack, I’ll show you how to manipulate the short needle it contains to make those cravings recede. I will also do what we call a general tonic to tune up and balance your internal organs. Your tongue indicates that your digestion is not good. This will help.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Now lie down.”
The hair-thin needles didn’t hurt particularly going in, but the physical effects they produced were quite startling. Inserted in various points on her body, the needles throbbed and seemed to grow hot. One needle often caused a reaction in another, which was also disconcerting.
“Now this is a new part of our treatment,” Smith told her when he’d inserted about a dozen needles. “I’m going to connect some of the needles to this little machine and put a low electrical current through them. This will cause the acupuncture points to activate electrically. We find it speeds up treatment considerably.”
Until then, things hadn’t been too bad, but having groups of muscles contracting because of the electricity was definitely not a pleasant feeling. First, it took quite some time to get the machine adjusted, and Smith turned something up too high at one point, causing an agonizing muscle contraction in one leg.
Jackie cried out in pain and surprise.
“Sorry about that,” Smith mumbled as he worked. “You seem to be very susceptible to the current.”
With a little more fiddling, he finally had everything adjusted to his satisfaction.
Smith walked to the door and switched off most of the room lights. “I’m going to leave you for about half an hour. Just lie here, relax and enjoy the treatment.”
The last thing Jackie did was relax – or enjoy it. She did not like the idea of being a human pin cushion, and even though nothing really hurt, it all felt very strange. That jolt of mis-adjusted voltage had also completely unnerved her.
Late
r, when Smith had finally finished with her and left, she slapped her goodies to her body again and practically ran from the treatment room.
The rest of that first morning was spent keeping Barry happy.
Jackie could not get a handle on the guy. He seemed concerned and caring but also unnecessarily harsh in his appraisal of her. If she had honestly had an addiction problem and low self-esteem, he might have done some lasting damage. It was all probably part of a well thoughtout program, but it would have been hard to take.
She’d decided that if she was going to be allowed to mingle with the other Seekers, she’d have to appear a little more compliant – at least for the moment. Now that she had her toys, she also needed to get out of the room they’d assigned her. The fisheye lens on the camera covered practically every bit of it. She doubted the regular rooms would have CCTV surveillance. Hollywood types would not put up with that.
“Can we go outside?” Jackie asked, after about an hour. “I seriously need some fresh air.”
Barry thought about it for a moment, then answered, “Sure. I could use a bit of air myself.”
Outside the building, he walked her towards a small grove of trees with unoccupied picnic tables under them.
The day was clear, a bit cool, but pleasant. Feeling the wind on her face was a big improvement. Across the compound was the high hill where Jackie had taken Shannon two days before. She parked herself in a spot where she could be seen easily if her boss was up there watching.
Barry set down his papers and a small recorder he’d been using. Realizing she’d start sweating if she stayed out in the sun as she was, Jackie got up and moved to a shadier spot. She could not afford to take off her sweatshirt at the moment and didn’t know how securely Roy’s tape would hold if it got damp. Most of it was being used for a second time.
Trying to relax, she focussed on what Barry was saying. It was all about how the program would serve her if she would let it.“I’m not saying it will be easy.You are going to have to face a lot of things about yourself that you won’t like, but if you do face them down, you’ll be building an inner strength that will carry you through the worst situations.”