[The Shifters Committee 01.0] Time Shifters

by Rebecca Foxx

  Not to mention, the repeated dreams of Liam, that haunted her subconscious and kept her sleepless. She felt dumb to trust anything that HE was in charge of. She felt the need to apologize to every single photograph of Howard. His twinkling brown eyes shot back at her, life-like.

  For being “just a kid”, he was more independent than most she knew.

  “You had so much longer left to go, buddy.”

  Where to even start? She knew that every single item would force a random memory to come flooding back into view. And then to sort it all? And to throw most of it away?

  All of this felt wrong.

  With no other choice, she sat on the floor, Indian style, building boxes and crying profusely.

  Chapter 17

  All by himself at Nowhere Bar, Liam sipped a scotch on the rocks. Although surrounded by familiar peers, he felt completely alone. When he closed his eyes, he could see a clear image of a human heart; all of its valves and chambers working with rolexsimilar synergy.

  “Where did I go wrong?” His guilty mind plagued him. He had never known weakness, until this day. Unfamiliar with how to cope, he kept his tab open and drank.

  The image of Ms. Crawford being taken down the hallway was the last he had seen of her in the past month and a half. It was imprinted on the back of his eyelids just like the engineered body parts he helped craft.

  Fellow patrons tried to have personal interviews with the local rich man, but he brushed them off with a scowl.

  “So what if it makes the news. A man is allowed to have a bad fuckin’ day.”

  An irrational thought process began to brew within his brain, like a concoction boiling in a cauldron. Someone is going to get hit! and I’m going to jump on that chandelier, and try to fuckin’ ride it! He hoped some sloppy “Brotype” would tap on his shoulder, looking for a brawl. It never happened…

  He threw the “don’t mess with me” vibe out there as heavily as he could muster. “I probably shouldn’t even be here,” he said quietly, to no one in particular.

  $120 even. For nothing but top shelf liquor. Liam determined that was a decent bill. Probably because I didn’t buy any shots for anyone this time, he thought.

  On his way out, a petite redhead wearing a white cocktail dress grabbed his bicep.

  “Wow, you must be strong!” She declared, through her drunken stupor and over the booming music. He only replied with a blank stare. “So,“ she went on, “where do you think you’re going, handsome?”

  “I’m ‘gonna go driving,” was the only answer he could invent. The manic fan basically assumed she was going with. Liam lacked the ability to decline. She took his arm, and they were strutting together, keeping a surprisingly straight line.

  The warm gusts of July rushed up to greet them as they exited. This breeze brought the scent of a familiar perfume…

  “Marcia!?” He gasped, while dropping the young ladies arm, suddenly. A sensation came on like hot water being thrown at his body. This glare froze him where he stood, weaving drunk. It was already too late to say anything intelligent.

  Marcia’s body shivered, despite the summer’s rays. She looked quite odd, standing there without a cigarette. Her arms were crossed, and her left foot was tapping the pavement.

  “I’m pregnant.” She finally let it slip.

  The once ready and willing redhead slipped away, feeling quite peculiar. Liam didn’t even look at the escapee, or acknowledge her flight at all. He stared right at Marcia, drilling her with his glance.

  “So...what should we do?” The words escaped his lips. His bottom jaw quivered out of control.

  “I don’t know,” She snarled, scaring passersby. “When I saw you with that little slut, I ‘sorta made up my mind!”

  “She fuckin’ clung on to me, like some ‘kinda octopus. I didn’t even want to do anything with her!”

  “Oh, bullshit! You looked pretty damn content right there. Is that your game? Flashing your fuckin’ cash around and jumping on anything warm, right? Do you have any other children out there?” Her eyes lit up brighter than the fire that highlighted their sexy scene that evening in the mansion.

  “What do you want me to do?” He implored, sounding like he was about to expire.

  “Ya’ know what?” She concluded. “Absolutely nothing! I don’t want your filthy money. I don’t need your company. This baby will be my only relative, and I’m going to protect it. You will never be involved. This is goodbye. Have a good life all alone in your mansion, Liam!”

  She spun around and bee-lined it to the parking lot. The once-strong man was reduced to a dribbling mess, wishing a rain could wash him away and down into the storm drain. He would truly be as low as he felt he deserved to be. Stuck within his racing thoughts, he resembled a humanly statue. Blankly, he gawked at the ornate bushes that stayed isolated to their pots. Slight greenery in this alloy jungle, mixed styles of music flood his ears from the passing vehicles. The segments that stuck out were ones about love.

  Sobriety began to replace the drunk with his sure steps toward his Porsche. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the “Victory Red” paint job, and the tinted windows.

  “I’m a fucking mess.” He admitted, noticing his unkempt hair and untucked shirt.

  The tires chirped as the exotic machinery flew out of the lot, and into the street. All he could think of doing was driving. Aimlessly, he toured Louisville. Oddly, it seemed he was getting to know his surroundings for the first time.

  Chapter 18

  Over the following months, the memories of her short lived time with the billionaire began to melt into the ignored past. Her mind was invaded with tasks such as: sales, appointments, and apartment hunting. Whenever she went to call her brother, she broke down and couldn’t move.

  There was nobody left to hear her out now. Just the cat she had inherited a few months before. “Dr. Albright” was her name.

  “Should I pay a stranger to be my Lamaze partner?” An interesting thought. The appointed “doula” was pissing her off lately.

  Fed up with the assembly of this crib, Marcia chucked her screwdriver like a throwing star. It stuck into the drywall, all the way up to the handle.

  “I sure could go for a ‘hot brown,’ turkey breast on top of toast with cheese and bacon.”

  The world had to be ending. Everybody was stuck on “really fucking dumb” mode today. She wiped the sweat from her brow, using a baby “onesie.” Something felt “off.”

  Suddenly, a wave of pain and a cramp from hell shot through her lower abdomen. The hefty woman stumbled backward, plopping onto her sofa. She waited, and the pains persisted.

  “Jeez man, you’re a month early. Slow down!” She talked directly to Victor, the baby boy inside of her. If she didn’t know any better, she would guess he was in there doing flips.

  With a warm gush, her water broke all over the couch. A spontaneous rupture of membranes.

  “Dammit!”

  As quickly as possible, she phoned the midwife. Victor was on his way, and there was nothing anybody could do to stop him.

  Chapter 19

  “Breathe! Breathe! C’mon! You can do it! Push!” The doula drilled on like a hardened sergeant.

  “Epidural!” The woman in labor belched to the heavens, “Epifuckingdural! I’m no prisoner of war here!”

  Everything appeared to be slowed down. The body had become the prison; the shell, that surrounded her thrashing spirit. She could only think, Fuck you Liam! Fuck you for doing this to me, dickhead! When the words tried to come out, they ended up as drool.

  “You’re almost there!” A disembodied tone reached her universe like a distant transmission from a far away planet.

  From her perspective, the scene looked like an alien abduction. Bloody hands reached at her delivery point.

  “Epidural!” She screamed again, wondering if her utterances were coming out in English.

  “Breathe baby! Breathe! Come on! You got this! You’re a champ!”

  Pu
sh. Push. Push. I’m fucking dying, Marcia’s inner voice concluded.

  Through the haze of drugs, she heard a man’s voice declare, “Something's wrong! Get the…” Then silence.

  Chapter 20

  It all appeared, as a lapse in the fabric of time. Suddenly, the predicament was over, and there she was, lying on a bed, surrounded by those familiar “beeps” and “twerps” that reminded the patient, “you’re alive and fighting.” She reached down, and the “baby bump” was missing.

  “What the hell!” She roared. “Victor! VICTOR!?” She pressed the emergency button over and over, until a nurse burst into the room.

  “Ms. Crawford!” The nurse that responded had no features through tired and blurred vision. “What’s the matter?”

  “My baby!” She indicated once more. “Where is he?”

  “Hold on, I’ll get the doctor!” …

  For what felt like an eternity, she waited while clawing at the mattress and crying. A white coat eventually barged into the room, “Ms. Crawford!?”

  She was getting sick of hearing that name…

  “Victor! Where’s Victor?” She kept repeating.

  “He is okay,” The doctor assured. “But he’s in critical condition at the moment. I’m afraid he has a hole in his heart…”

  Her anger filled every empty space in her body, and poured from her ears. A family curse? She wondered. Was I the only one to escape it? If she could get up right now, she would strangle this doctor. Crush him, with all her might.

  “We’re going to do everything we can…” A rehearsed utterance, obviously. Marcia had been told this too many times before.

  “I just want to see him.” Her weak voice managed to escape her lungs. “Please!”

  “You need to build your strength.” The professional recommended. “And, baby Victor is being held in a special unit. I will personally make sure you get to see him. I swear.”

  The brand new mother scowled, rolled her eyes, and sank back into her tearsoaked pillow. She counted the seconds that went by, and it drove her absolutely mad.

  Marcia Crawford was sure that she was residing in hell.

  Chapter 21

  “Hurry up, Ben!” Liam demanded of his driver, earnestly.

  “I’m doing the best I can!” The chauffeur, Ben, promised.

  “We’re already late!” It was about the third time he had voiced that fact.

  A newborn needed a heart, and as soon as possible. The size of the parts presented a challenge, however. This was going to require more precision than ever before. With absolutely NO room for error, the team only had one shot.

  The limo pulled up to Henderson Enterprises, and Liam jumped out before the driver could even assist. Scientists and technicians were shocked at his style of entrance, scratching

  their heads at the CEO’s strange behavior. Doors went flying by. People dove out of their offices, saying, “Hi!”

  He was ignoring it all.

  “This is for my son. This is for my son!” He never had a more important deadline.

  He arrived at the observation window and pressed his face against it, like a small child, window shopping. The machinery within the lab hummed, and did as it was told. Technicians concentrated so hard, one could smell their brains burning, like rubber belts wrapped around worn pulleys. Nobody talked at all. Liam wanted to jump in there and start shouting commands.

  “This is my kid’s heart, dammit!” he could bark.

  Interns stood around, scribbling notes down into their clipboards. Spectators sipped their hot coffee. Everybody here knew was at stake. The path of history was being paved. Right here, right now.

  After hours of sweat, tears, and finger-crossing...the new piece of art was finished.

  “Victor’s Heart.” The title was now official.

  “My little boy’s heart. Best damn ticker ever made, dammit!”

  Preparations were made as the brand new organ was tested. Once everything had checked out, the team rushed it to the hospital. Like a heat-seeking missile, Liam followed the truck in his Porsche. It was a motorcade, of sorts, with flashing lights forcing traffic to let them by.

  “I’m coming, baby. Hang on.”

  Chapter 22

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Come on in!” The lounging woman replied, still being hooked up to various meters.

  In walked Liam, with a colorful bouquet under his arm.

  “Hey, you.” He said, while beaming.

  “Hey.”

  The new father was very surprised she acknowledged him at all.

  “I brought something for you.” He extended the flowers. The petals were colored radically, being pink, orange, and yellow. With a quick smooch, she thanked him.

  She was still unable to move much.

  “How’s our son?” She interrogated.

  “The surgery was successful…” He began, while sighing. “However, we have to play that stupid waiting game, ya know?”

  “Did you get to see him?”

  Liam couldn’t keep it secret. “Yes, I saw him. He’s tiny. He’s beautiful. And he’s ours.”

  Marcia began to pout. “Well, what the fuck? You get to see him before me?”

  The well-dressed man sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her leg.

  “I know that I was dick. I can understand if you don’t want to see me anymore. But, I have to be part of Victor’s life. It would tear me up inside, if I couldn’t at least see him.” The bedridden mess of a woman put her pointer finger up to his mouth, to “shush” him.

  Pulling him in by his silk necktie, she gave him a long, deep kiss.

  “How is everything else?” He wondered, feeling all flush afterward.

  “I miss my brother.” She answered with waterworks starting in her eyes.

  Liam extended a tissue and she fixed herself.

  He told her, “Howard is the one that made this all possible. Victor wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for Howard’s sacrifice. A lot of other lives will be saved too.”

  “Thank you. That’s actually really sweet of you to say.” Marcia was wiping her face, which was irritated and lacking makeup. She thought about how he had never seen her like this.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Liam rose to answer the door and let the doctor in.

  “Good evening, folks.” He starts, appearing rather thrilled. “Ms. Crawford? Mind if he hears this?” For formalities sake.

  “He is actually the father.” As the words left her mouth, it had a peculiar ring to it. She thought of Victor as “fatherless” for the entire pregnancy.

  “Oh!” The white-coat clapped his hands in glee, “Wonderful! I just wanted to congratulate you...well, you both...for the delivery of that gorgeous, healthy, baby boy! He’s stabilized now, and breathing on his own. He will have to take it easy, of course, due to the incisions. Also, he will be a very sore, and cranky. There is a great deal of literature you willhave to go through. Life is going to be very much different for this boy. It won’t be bad...just different!” A well-rehearsed smile made the doctor’s sunburnt features turn increasingly red. “Would you like to hold your son, Marcia?”

  Her face must have contained infinite tears. She could only nod “yes”. Liam wasn’t invincible either. His eyeballs began to get glassy and with one more blink, his visage was dripping profusely. He wasn’t even sure if it was joy, fear, or sadness.

  As the doctor made his leave, he announced, “I’ll go get the nurse! She will be right with

  you!”

  “In and out. In and out, with these people! ‘Gimme my baby, dammit!” a drugged up Marcia cursed.

  “Any minute now!” Victor’s father reminded.

  “So…what are your plans for us?”

  “I know exactly what I’m ‘gonna do!” Liam leaned in closer to his love. “I’m gonna be that type of father who balances his books, rolls his pennies, and plays catch with my boy! I mean, this is Louisville...he will get made fun of so hard if he can’t pl
ay ball.”

  His girl laughed and rolled her eyes.

  “Mostly, I’m going to love you both, every single day. And if you don’t believe me, I will just have to prove it to you, every single day. I know I can’t twist your arm to forgive me, or love me back. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

  Knock. Knock. Knock.