Billy was out in the hall waiting, leaning against the wall. When they emerged from Greg’s office, he approached Cal who was ahead of Jake and Rickie.
Jake, staying back, rolled his eyes slightly, watching Billy stare only at Cal. “Oh, this guy’s got balls.”
Billy smiled. “Caleen Lambert, right?” He pointed.
Cal stopped walking. “Do I know you?”
“You should. I hope.” He had his hands in his pockets. “Joey Levinson. Mr. Price’s English class. I sat behind you.”
Rickie held up his hand. “There you have it, dude. She never saw you. You sat behind her.”
Billy looked only briefly at Rickie, then back to Cal. “We were also in home room together for three years.”
Cal’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, Joey.”
Jake let out a huff and switched his weight on his legs. “Cal, come on. We have a plane to . . .” He grunted she snapped her head over her shoulder giving Jake a demonic stare. “Was that necessary?”
“Joe Levinson?” Cal said with shock, stepping closer to Billy. “Wow, look at you. You really look good.”
“Yeah, well.” Billy raised his eyebrows. “So do you. Real good. I mean really good. I can’t. . .”
“Hey.” Jake spoke up. “The looks thing is established.”
Cal played off his remark. “Jake, this is Joey Levinson, we went to school together. Joey, this is my fiancé, Lt. Col. Graison.”
“Pleasure.” Jake used the distance between them as his excuse not to shake hands with the ‘stare guy’.
“Nice to meet you.” Billy looked at his watch, and placed his hands in his pockets again. “Wow, it was great seeing you again. I really have to go.” He extended his hand and gripped onto Cal’s.
Cal’s smile left her, feeling their hands together. With curiosity, she made eye contact with Billy.
Billy brought his other hand over their joined hands and winked. “Take care of yourself.” He flashed a wide bright grin as he moved back from Cal, letting his hands slip away. He waved and trotted off to the elevator.
Cal closed her hand.
Jake heard Rickie snickering. “What?”
Rickie inched his way to Jake and whispered, “Dude, like, he palmed her.”
“What?” Jake asked in a matching whisper. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t see it, Sarge. He palmed her a note. Slipped it right to her under your nose.”
“He did not.”
“Did too.”
“He did . . .” Jake watched Cal slowly move her right hand to the front pocket of her jeans. He took one long stride to her, reached out, snatched her wrist, and lifted her tightly closed hand. “Open your hand.” Cal didn’t. “Cal, open it.” Jake looked over his shoulder to Rickie. “Rickie, go chase that asshole down and stop him so I can beat the fuck out of him.”
“Aye-aye Sarge.” Rickie saluted and ran to the elevator.
Cal peered at Rickie who stood bouncing with excitement by the elevator. She shifted her eyes to Jake. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Well, you’re pissing me off. Open your goddamn hand!” Jake watched Cal’s fingers--red from clenching them so tightly--unroll. Lying in her hand was a yellow piece of paper folded up into a tiny square. “Fuckin asshole.” Jake took the note and began to open it. “And you, Cal. Hiding the shit.”
“It’s a female thing, Jake. What just happened is mysterious and never happens to me. It’s not like I was going to do anything. I just thought it was cool that he did that in front of you.”
Jake’s eyes went back and forth quickly over the paper that unfolded into a rather large note. He looked at Rickie who was getting on the elevator. “Rickie, just hold that.”
“But Sarge, he’s getting away.” Rickie pointed.
“Don’t worry about him.” Jake crumpled the note in his hand, took Cal by the arm, and led her to the elevator. “He’s a reporter.” As Jake tossed it in the garbage, he became so engrossed in pulling Cal into the elevator, that he didn’t see her pick it out of the trash and shove it in her pocket.
^^^^
Since it was not known what effect being in a pressurized airplane cabin would have on Rickie, Caldwell took no chances and flew the three of them home by private jet. But all was going fine. Nothing happened to Rickie. He tried to make them think so, shaking as the plane took off, holding onto his ears and thrashing about. But Jake failed to see the humor in it, and one stern slap to the back of Rickie’s head not only stopped him, but kept him quiet for ten minutes after his initial whine.
Cal had to laugh as she returned to the seating section. Rickie was using the microphone, singing over the speaker. She made her way up the aisle to her seat. Two leather ones, wide and comfortable. Jake sat near the window, a booklet in his hand. Cal slid to her seat, sitting on her leg and facing Jake. “What are you reading?”
“Oh.” Jake closed it. “Just the observation forms we have to fill out for Rickie.” He reached down and put it away. “Easy.”
“What did Dr. Haynes mean by you knew how to fill them out?”
“My training I guess,” Jake told her and lifted the arm rest to an upright position. He laid his hand on her bent knee.
“Ranger school must teach you a lot.”
“Yeah, they do.” Nervously, Jake scratched the bridge of his nose. “Cal, they also teach basic English.”
“Okay.”
“The woman who teaches English there at the school is retiring in three months.”
“Jake . . .”
“No, Cal, hear me out.” He shifted his body to face her. “I know you said you didn’t want to teach kids again after Jessie, but this is different. These aren’t children. They’re sort of men. Cal, you’re so smart. I hate to see all your education go to waste. What are you gonna do, sit around our big house all day?” Jake brought his face closer to hers. “I spoke to the administrator . . .”
“Jake.”
“I would be so proud to tell people my wife teaches at the school.”
Cal grew silent. “Can I think about?”
“Yeah, I’d love that.” Jake kissed her quickly and moved back. “So . . . are you still mad at me?”
“It’s funny.” Cal laid her hand on his. “I never really stay mad at you for very long. And . . . I really do understand why you didn’t tell me.”
Jake closed his eyes in gratefulness. “I am sorry, though.”
“I am too, you know, for throwing things at you.” She smiled, then cringed when Rickie hit a bad note. Then Cal smiled again.
“You know.” Jake’s hands gripped hers. “You look happy. Video happy.”
“What do you mean?” Cal asked.
“Remember how I said you looked so happy on that video tape? Well, you look that happy now.” He let out a deep breath. “It’s really a relief.”
“I am happy, Jake. I feel like for once fate said enough is enough. I’ve been given a second chance with someone close to me that I thought I lost. A gift. And . . .” She leaned to him and opened his jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“I know you still have it. Yes. Here it is.” She pulled out a pamphlet from his inside pocket and she gave it to Jake. “Keep the down payment on our adventurous honeymoon, Jake. Let’s do it.”
“Really?” Jake’s face lit up. “Cal, this will be so great. We’ll have so much fun.”
“I think so, too. It’s just not you and I to lie around in the sun. We have to run around in the sun.”
“Thank you.” Jake kissed her, and before he knew it Cal had climbed to him sitting on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her. “How teenage-like of us.” He brought his lips close to hers. “I love you.”
Just as they started to kiss, they stopped when the close sound of Rickie’s laughter was heard.
Jake raised his lips from Cal to see Rickie peering over the seats in front of them. “What?”
“Sarge, it was like on my
mind. Are you two still going at it? I mean, I like, understood, up there in the woods, nothing to do but rock all the time. But dude, is it like all you think about, that and killing people? Or are you just really trying to make up for the years you suffered from sex drought?”
Jake lifted his hand, and its largeness covered Rickie’s entire face. Jake shoved him away and returned to kissing Cal.
CHAPTER NINE
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
March 14th - 7:45 p.m.
It was a carpet party, and Rickie was the entertainment. Cal and Jake sat on the floor, backs against the sofa. Jake held a beer, Cal’s was on the coffee table with the bowl of chips. Chuck lounged on his side, laughing and looking up to Rickie who stood in the center of the living room.
Rickie’s hands moved about as he spoke in his usual dramatic fashion. “So, like, then bigfoot, he’s coming at us. His arms are swinging. Sarge is trying his hardest to lead him out. Bigfoot’s going . . .” Rickie crinkled his face and growled. “He goes after me, but Sarge gets him. And the next thing I know, dude, I’m like, bleeding.” Rickie places his hands on his stomach and peers at Chuck. “I take my hand away thinking minor injury, and I see like my stomach. Uh!” Rickie shrieks caused everyone to jump. “I don’t have to tell you, I’m scared at this moment. Sarge comes in. I drop to the floor. He panics.”
“I did not,” Jake argued.
Rickie flung his hand at Jake and continued. “It was like this moment to remember. Cal-babe comes up, she holds me, I feel her breast hit against my . . .”
“Rickie!” Jake yelled. “Tell your death story un-perverted please.”
“Dude, her boob was right there.” Rickie pointed to his cheek. “Anyway.” He shrugged. “Cal’s crying, her tears are like dripping in my mouth. I’m not only dying from this massive big scratch, I’m drowning in a salty ocean of Cal-babe tears. I don’t feel any pain, right. I’m thinking, hey it’s not that bad, until . . .” Rickie pointed to Jake. “The Sarge started blubbering. Sobbing like a bambino.”
“Rickie, I was not.” Jake insisted.
“Ha!” Rickie nodded “Had to walk away, couldn’t watch the Rickie-meister pass on to the next plain. And Cal-babe, I am sorry I made an empty promise to you.”
Cal shook her head. “Rickie, that’s fine.”
Chuck was curious. “What promise?”
“I told the Cal-babe I would like hang with her daughter and watch out for her while we were boppin along in the never-after-world, dude.”
Chuck had a slight smile. “That was really nice of you.”
“Yeah.” Rickie laid his hand on his own chest. “I’m just that type of guy. So, like, are you old folks gonna let me finish my story of death and departure, or are you gonna keep interrupting me?” He was answered with moans. “Cool. Okay, so I’m slipping away. Voices and cries are fading and then . . . it gets black, real black, and I see this burst of light. Next thing I know, I’m behind this fat dude in a bathrobe. A long line of people are ahead of me, moving like way too slow. One by one they disappear through this door. And I stop. I stop.” Rickie explained. “I can’t move. Then whoa! This huge white glowing hand comes out and I hear this deep voice. It’s God. He’s like . . .” Rickie does his best God imitation. “‘Ricardo, Ricardo, come to the light!’ I was like, whoa, this has to either be the biggest rip off dream of poltergeist, or, like, I’m dead. And so the hand reaches for me saying, ‘Ricardo, come.’ I was like, ‘Dude . . . Dude, I’m here.’ But wham! It’s black again and I can’t move. Next thing I know, I’m dreaming of lesbian babes on the beach for a really long time, until I woke up. The end.” Rickie bowed.
Chuck lifted his head to get Jake’s attention. “Hey Jake, I really like this kid.”
Jake finished his beer. “You can have him.” He started to get up. “Cal, you need another?”
Cal lifted her bottle from the table. “Yeah, thanks.”
Rickie, looking at Chuck, pointed to Jake. “Them two are like the biggest lushes I have ever seen. Smashed like the whole time up there. No wonder they lived.” Rickie laughed at Jake’s grunting at him. “Sarge, chill. But hurry back. I have a ton more dream stories to tell. I was out for a really long time.” Rickie waited then followed Jake in the kitchen.
The sound of Jake yelling at Rickie could be heard from the living room. Chuck laughed as he moved closer to Cal. “Jake’s crazy about this kid,” he whispered.
“What gave it away to you? His grunting, grumbling, yelling?”
“Nah.” Chuck shook his head. “Rickie calls him Sarge, and . . . he’s still standing.” Chuck looked up, and he and Cal broke into a loud, slightly alcohol-induced laugher when they heard Jake yell at Rickie to leave the toaster where it was. “For how long though remains to be seen.”
^^^^
In the silent house, Cal slowly pushed open her bedroom door, very quietly and only an inch. She peeked in. Jake lay with only a sheet covering him, on his stomach, his arms gripping the pillow tightly. Pulling the door closed, Cal stepped back.
“Cal,” Jake called out groggily.
Cal cringed. “Yeah?” She poked her head in.
“Why are you checking to see if I’m sleeping?”
“I uh . . . I wasn’t. I was getting a ponytail holder. I know you hate when I wear ponytails.”
Jake grumbled. “Night.”
“Night.” Cal pulled the door closed and let out a long breath. She walked down the hall, stopping and laughing by Rickie’s door when she heard how loud he was snoring. She moved to the steps, and as she walked down them, she pulled from her back pocket the yellow note that Billy had given her. In her move downstairs, she opened it and read it. It was a simple note saying his name was Billy and he was really a journalist and how he meant her no harm or intrusion, he just wanted her attention, and that Cal could call him day or night. No strings or interviews.
Cal had to wonder, while she read the note, what he wanted if it wasn’t an interview. And that curiosity led her back to the kitchen where her high school year book was open. She looked one more time down to the picture of the real Joey Levinson, a boy who definitely wasn’t the handsome man she had met at the institute. Joey was a heavy set kid, brown straight hair, thick glasses, and bad skin. How bad she felt for not even knowing who Joey Levinson was until a stranger pretended to be him. Three years in the same home room and Cal never noticed him. She vowed right there to call him up one day and say hi. For no reason, just to make up for probably being mean to someone that never deserved it.
But right at that moment, despite the late hour, she had another call to make, one she didn’t want to make earlier. With no hesitation and Billy’s note in her hand, she picked up the phone and dialed.
Two rings into it a groggy voice answered. Billy cleared his throat. “Hello?”
“Can I speak to Billy, please?”
Billy recognized the voice right away, and he sprang up. “Is this you?”
“Depends on who ‘you ‘ is.”
“Caleen?”
“Cal.”
“Thank you for calling me. I thought for sure the big guy wouldn’t let you,” Billy said.
“He won’t. That’s why I’m calling so late.” Cal pulled a chair up and sat down. “Your gall in slipping me a note in front of a man who pretty much would kill you caught my attention.”
“I didn’t think of that. But I knew he wouldn’t let me near you.”
“He wouldn’t. Billy, what is it that you want from me?”
“I need to talk to you. I know you survived the last Iso-Stasis Experiment.”
“I really can’t . . .”
“Please, just listen.” Billy spoke with sincerity. “I know the compensation you received was large. I know if you tell me about what you experienced there you can lose that money. Trust me, it’s not my intention to get you to lose that money. Cal, it’s not even my intention to get you to tell me what went on up there. Not yet, anyhow. I’ll wait the thirty-three months.”
Cal was curious. “Then what is it that you want?”
“To get to know you. Not . . . not romantically, but get to know you. What kind of person you are, what you’re capable of.”
“I’m lost. Why? I’m really not that interesting.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Billy told her. “You were picked. And because of that, I need your help. Can I get it?”
“In what way?”
“You don’t have to tell me what happens. I just need you to tell me how to be, how to become what Caldwell looks for in their participants. I need a coach for getting into Iso-Stasis thirteen.”
Cal went silent. “Billy . . . you don’t want to do that.”
“Yeah. Yeah I do. I need to. Right now, you and the big guy are the only information and training resource I got. He doesn’t seem like the helpful sort, so can you help me?”
Cal’s head dropped she listened to the soft spoken man with so much sincerity ask her again.
“Please Cal. I really need some help. Can you?”
Not knowing if it was the right thing to do or not, Cal agreed to help him with only a small amount of reluctance, and that had less to do with helping Billy than it did with Jake. Cal’s biggest concern was how Jake would handle what she had agreed to. And when her mind gave her the answer, Cal slipped into a debate on whether or not she would even tell Jake.
CHAPTER TEN
Caldwell Research Institute - Atlanta GA
March 28th - 11:00 a.m.
Greg wanted to nearly drop over when he saw the stack of messages his secretary, Grace, had so snidely handed to him after his meeting with Dr. Jefferson.
“My God, when did I become so popular?” Greg shuffled through his messages.
“When you became director.”
“You took all these, so just tell me if any of them are of extreme importance because I have to head down to the labs.”
“Um . . .” Grace thought. “Amelia called. She said she’s canceling your date for Dr. Jefferson’s step-down dinner.”
Amoeba (The Experiments) Page 9