Targeted Demographics

by Joseph Sciuto

  I sat at the very back of the stretch limo. Privacy was of the utmost importance when talking to Nancy since her ideas could be quite disturbing. The less people heard, the less chance of her being rearrested. I had the driver pull over at a liquor store. I picked up two bottles of Cristal and stuck them in an ice bucket provided by the service. We arrived early at the prison. I stayed in the car and talked to the driver about sports until I spotted Nancy coming out with the lawyer. She was dressed in the clothes they had taken her away in. Strangely, I had imagined, or more to the point, hoped, she would still be wearing the orange jumpsuit. I was disappointed.

  I told the driver to wait in the car as I got out and greeted my lovely wife and her suitor. We talked for a while and then the lawyer went his own way. Nancy commented, “That pig freaks me out. I could feel his eyes on every part of my body.”

  I opened the door to the limo and Nancy slid in. “Thank you, sir.” I slid in beside her and closed the door.

  “That pig negotiated a generous compensation package for you with your former employer.”

  “I know. He wouldn’t stop mentioning it as though he was expecting a little something extra on top of his thirty-three percent fee.”

  “A million dollars in the bank and a new and exciting job. Not bad compensation for a few days behind bars.”

  She looked at me and smiled. “Just like you to put a positive spin on an injustice and a fabrication of the truth. I think I’ll give that money to charity.”

  “Not so quick, Nancy. That money will pay legal fees and other expenses I incurred because of you.”

  “Whatever! Do as you please. Dirty money and you go together like a horse and carriage.”

  “Cute.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think while you fiddled around like an absent-minded adolescent.”

  “It’s not like you served thirty years. You were in jail for four days.”

  “Two more than you.”

  “Wow! Are we actually comparing jail time?”

  “No, that would be silly, but it is a problem. I’m on a much higher plane than you.”

  “Yet you needed me to get you out of jail.”

  “I didn’t say you were useless. If that were the case, I wouldn’t be married to you and I certainly wouldn’t love you as much as I do. I can honestly admit that you are the only man I have truly loved unconditionally.”

  “Thank you, Nancy. That’s very sweet.”

  “I don’t expect a reciprocal response from you. After all, you had lovely and compassionate parents, and I would never come between that bond.”

  She folded her legs and looked curiously down at the bottles of champagne. Like always, I was left to figure out the riddle. I picked up a bottle, removed the cork, and poured us two glasses. I handed her a glass and smiled. I still had the image of her alive and kicking in that orange jumpsuit. Strange, because orange was my least favorite color, but Nancy was always my preferred dish. We raised our glasses and I made a simple toast. “To freedom!” Nancy quickly finished her champagne, and I refilled her glass. “Thank you, sir.”

  She looked at me and smiled deviously. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I’m bleeding profusely down there.” She pointed between her legs. “Strange, it started just about the time you hung up on me this morning.”

  “That’s playing dirty.”

  She laughed as she polished off her second glass of champagne. She moved closer, ran her hands through my hair, and kissed me passionately. All else went dark after that.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  After picking up my lovely bride from jail, drinking champagne in the limo, and making out like two teenagers, I had the chauffeur drive us up the coast. I figured it was best not to go home yet with some news crews still hanging around the house. The city prosecutor had hastily called a news conference and explained that there wasn’t enough evidence to prosecute and that the supposed victims were just happy to get on with their lives. So there wasn’t much of a story left, but that didn’t stop the press from pursuing it. The last thing I needed was Nancy unwisely answering some stupid question on her way to the front door.

  I asked Nancy if she knew what the government was going to have her working on. She whispered that she wasn’t allowed to tell me because that might put my life in danger, and she wouldn’t know what to do if anything, God forbid, happened to me. The way I saw it, if the government was insane enough to hire her, let them handle the fallout when she went rogue.

  We got back late and found no news crews at the house. Nancy immediately went to her laboratory; I could hear her gasp when she noticed the missing computers.

  “Did they say if they were going to bring them back?”

  “I didn’t even ask. I was too busy getting you released to give it much thought. I would just let them go. After all, now you’re going to be working with advanced military software and computers much better suited to your intellect.”

  “And what do you think my computers were designed to handle?”

  I walked away and she grabbed me by my shoulder. “Can you buy me new computers?”

  “No!”

  “How about all the money you said the studio gave me as compensation?”

  “Legal bills.”

  “Nonsense!”

  I turned to look at her sad, pleading face. “You’ll never see a penny of that money, so I recommend that you get your daily fix of computers and software at your new job.”

  “You son of a bitch!”

  “Now, now, my beautiful little bride, is that any way to talk? How about we go shopping tomorrow for a diamond necklace or a closet full of Armani jackets perfectly tailored to your wonderful dimensions? Then we can stop off at a bookstore and buy you as many literary classics as you like. How does that sound?”

  “Why don’t you go screw yourself?”

  “I would, but, as you know, it’s anatomically impossible.”

  “Not after I get through with you.”

  I laughed as I walked to the kitchen to get myself a beer. She yelled, “Why do you have to be so mean?”

  “Because that might be the only way to keep you out of jail. I love you so much, Nancy. Even if we never sleep together again, knowing you are here, safe in our home, is better than having to come visit you in jail for the next thirty years.”

  She hugged me and kissed me passionately. It was a small victory, but when it came to Nancy, any victory was a reason to celebrate.

  The following morning, I opened the front door to a young military officer holding a parcel of documents the Department of Defense had sent over for Nancy. He wouldn’t let me sign, nor would he accept my invitation to come into the house. Nancy, dressed in her bathing suit and dripping wet, signed for the parcel after showing the officer her ID. She placed the parcel on the living-room table and went back out to the pool to finish her swim, leaving a trail of water behind. I opened the parcel and took out the documents. I had dealt with the military before and wasn’t about to have Nancy signing over her rights and freedoms just to get herself in front of a computer.

  The first few pages were standard forms, not much different than the forms I had signed when I did a number of ad campaigns for the military a few years back. Sworn statements saying that while working for the DOD you wouldn’t disseminate any information, top secret or not, to any foreign country, corporations, or individuals in or outside the DOD. Such violations would constitute treason and the perpetrator(s) would be tried before a military tribunal.

  The following pages dealt with the issue of patents and stated that any prior patent (relevant to the agreed-upon work as stated above) was to be purchased by the US government at a market value consistent with other military purchases. The five patents that I had registered with the patent office on Nancy’s behalf were listed and the DOD was offering $50,000 for each one. All other work, whether started or completed while in the service of the DOD, was property of the United States.

  I turned to the
last page of the document and to my delight saw that it came from the office of General Pierce, a friend who had assisted me on the military ads. I called his personal number. He picked up immediately, and, from all indications, he’d been expecting my call. He reminded me that the documents were for my wife’s eyes only, and if she needed any clarification a military lawyer would be assigned to help her. He then started to laugh as I brought up the meager sum his department was offering for her valuable formulas and software, which would greatly enhance the security of the United States.

  He laughed again. “Don’t forget that your wife was facing treason charges just two days ago and possibly a date with the electric chair. That alone should make her agree to our terms.”

  Dripping wet, Nancy sat down on the couch and angrily grabbed all the papers out of my hand. She was just about to open her big mouth when I put my hand over it.

  “Now, General, you and I both know that Nancy never intended to hurt our country. She’s the most patriotic person I know.”

  “Another Hedy Lamarr,” the general remarked, “and if you don’t mind me saying so, just as beautiful. Are you aware of how much Ms. Lamarr was paid for her patented invention, which helped us defeat the Nazis? Very little, Joe.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to make that mistake twice, would we?”

  “No, we wouldn’t. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you ask for ten times the amount we offered and I’ll see what I can do. Please give your brilliant wife my regards, and tell her to report to work in a week.”

  The general hung up, and I said to Nancy, “The general sends his best.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The general came through and Nancy received ten times the original offer, which immediately told me that her software was extremely important to the military and the security of the United States. When I told her about the $2.5-million payment, she simply remarked, “What good does it do me? It’s not like you’ll let me buy what I want.”

  “Apparently, your invention is a huge deal, so the military is willing to pay top dollar even though they could have convicted you for treason and legally confiscated the software for nothing.”

  “That would’ve given them the answer to only half the riddle. The other half is up here,” she pointed to her head. “For the record, I would have given them the rights to the patents for nothing. I’m a patriot.”

  “Of course you would have.” I took her into my arms. “Either way, I am amazingly proud of you. Is it okay if I say so?”

  “Of course.”

  “And I love you very, very much.”

  “And how do you plan on proving that?” I kissed her again.

  Nancy’s association with the DOD was troubling because it didn’t take a genius to realize she was unstable. It didn’t alleviate my anxiety that every morning she was picked up for work by two muscular, well-armed agents in a bulletproof black SUV and then dropped off each night by two different agents, also muscular and well-armed. She was a top priority, and I was certain it had nothing to do with her looks.

  Her workdays grew steadily longer, and eventually she only had Sundays off. It got to the point that the only time I saw Nancy, besides Sundays, was early in the morning and then late at night when she would quietly slip into our bed, cuddle up next to me, and hold me increasingly tighter and tighter throughout the night.

  She insisted that she loved the work she was doing, but she couldn’t tell me anything else because it could jeopardize my life. I kept both our passports close by at all times.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  During my much-needed vacation after the stint in jail and then ensuring Nancy’s release, I kept in constant contact with Maggie. I normally would have told her to take the week off, but an idle mind is a dangerous thing, and an idle mind for an addict is playing with fire. I kept her busy at work, probably with more projects than I had given her in the last seven years. I was pretty sure she knew why, but she didn’t complain.

  I asked George, our limousine driver, to keep a close watch on Maggie while she was at work and then follow her home. He was secretly in love with her but he wasn’t her type — rich — so he never asked her out; he was also a key source of information on our fearless leader, Jack. I knew George had the pleasure of driving Jack and his entourage around into the wee hours of the morning and probably took notes, which he handed to Maggie the second she walked through the door in the morning.

  When I got off the elevator at work, I was greeted by a chorus of fellow employees giggling and singing, “Hi, Joe.” Finally, I made it over to Maggie’s desk that was adorned, as always, with floral arrangements from her Japanese admirers. She was carefully selecting boxes in a pool that was going around the office.

  “Hi, Joe.” No giggling.

  “Can I get in?”

  “Of course you can. It’s $20 a box. How many would you like?”

  “Five.”

  “Great! I’ll save them for you. That way no one can say it’s rigged.”

  I was puzzled, but before I could say another word, she explained. “There are thirty boxes representing thirty calendar days. The day your wife makes you her next victim and your body is covered with boils — let’s say in ten days — the person with box number ten is the winner.”

  I opened my wallet and handed her $100. “All the charges against Nancy were dropped, you know.”

  “Of course. And remember our promise never to lie to each other?”

  I looked at her, my precious Maggie, and for a moment it all seemed normal again. “You’re right. My wife was guilty as sin.”

  Maggie followed me into the office. “I’m going to get a cappuccino. Would you like one?”

  “No, thank you.” I sat in my chair and looked at her.

  “How are the children doing?”

  “You know, that’s the sixty-third time in a little over a week you’ve asked about my kids. The last time I checked, they should be graduating college soon.”

  “Don’t be such a wiseass.”

  She laughed and turned away. I continued to watch her as she walked toward the elevator. Just a few months ago, I would have thought Maggie was the last woman in the world some guy would take advantage of, and yet it had happened. I knew that she could start using again at any time and I couldn’t keep watch over her twenty-four hours a day. If I hadn’t met Nancy and fallen for her, I would have simply married Maggie. That would have given me a measure of control over her that I would have felt comfortable with … even though after her second marriage, I’d given up the idea of ever marrying her.

  The only good thing that came out of Nancy’s incarceration was that, for a short time, my anxiety over Maggie had been replaced with the circumstantial mess and stress that my lovely wife had created. At least Nancy was rewarded with millions of dollars and her dream job: a license from the military to create weapons of mass destruction … whereas Maggie would have to fight the urge, for the rest of her life, to use the drug that nearly killed her.

  Jack called, saying he was worried about what Nancy might do next. With only a month before the big wedding, he was counting on me, his best man, to show up without any boils or viral diseases that my wife might be hatching in her laboratory. He reminded me how he’d warned me about her at the start: “Any woman that beautiful who can speak perfect English is trouble.” And he hinted that maybe it would be for the best if Nancy didn’t come to the wedding. I assured him that she had no interest in attending.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It’s often said that the fear of an impending crisis is worse than the crisis itself. Well, like most everything else in my life lately, that maxim didn’t apply.

  Maggie gripped my hand tightly as the sirens roared. The ambulance was traveling at a great speed, twisting and turning like a boat rocked by unflinching waves. At any moment, I thought I was going to vomit all over Maggie, not that she would have noticed. She was in and out of consciousness, with an oxygen mask covering her mouth, and she was
hooked up to an IV. The paramedic told me to try to keep her awake as he constantly monitored her vital signs. I kept pinching her ass really hard; with each pinch, her eyes opened wide like she was ready to kill me. Finally she was admitted into the Emergency Center at UCLA. I was told to stay in the waiting room and they would come talk to me once she was stable.

  Earlier in the evening, I had been trying to get in touch with her. I knew her kids were at a sleepover, and I worried about her being alone all night. After repeatedly calling, I got in my car and drove to her house. The front door was unlocked. I walked straight up to her bedroom and found her passed out on the floor, her face in a puddle of vomit. Empty wine bottles and the drug of her undoing were scattered all over the place. At that moment, I wasn’t even sure she was alive. I immediately called 911.

  I turned Maggie over and rubbed my knuckles roughly over her sternum. She sat up, her eyes wide open like in some sick horror film, and she barfed all over me before flopping back down. I carried her into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face as I waited for the sink to fill up. Then I dipped her head into the sink of cold water. That woke her up long enough to understand that help was on the way. As we waited for the ambulance, I dipped her head into the water every time she seemed to be nodding off, which was about every thirty seconds.

  I tried to clean up in the hospital bathroom but I couldn’t get rid of the stench. Soon the doctor came out and told me Maggie was sleeping comfortably and out of danger. He asked if she had previously attempted suicide, and I gave him a quick summary of how she had become addicted. He listened as if he had heard the same story a thousand times before.

  I asked if I could see her, and he thought it would be best if I went home first and took a shower. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  I left Nancy a note on the bed explaining the situation since I had no way of reaching her at work. It was like she was in protective custody six days a week. I was tempted to call the general and ask when I should expect my wife back, but I already knew what he’d say: “She’s working on a very important project, Joe. Surely you can understand the sensitive nature of such endeavors and the need for utmost secrecy. In the wrong hands, it could mean the end of civilization.”