REALITY CHECK
by Rebeckah
Annie's Story, final partDays later, days that I couldn't remember well enough to count, I awakened with knowledge that something was wrong. My head ached dully and my mouth felt dry, reminding me of something but I couldn't quite place what. My thoughts were foggy and hard to hold, until I stumbled into the bathroom to splash my face with cold water.
Then I remembered that I’d felt this way the day I first woke up in this room. I looked at my face in the mirror, the bruising around my eye barely visible and all of the bruises on my body, except for the very worst of them, completely gone. Some time had passed since I made my fateful decision---what had happened?
Concentrating with all of my might I could, just barely, remember vague sensations and feelings, some of which brought up a self-conscious blush. I decided it was safe to assume that I hadn’t had any reasons to regret my choice, at least not then, and that somehow I, at least, had been drugged. I suspected that Jarod would be suffering from the same foggy memories as well, though.
<Was this what happened to him before he escaped? Is this why he barely remembers his childhood? Why would they want to drug us on top of what they’d already given Jarod? Unless, the drug influenced my cooperation?> I speculated, sensing I was coming pretty close to understanding something.
<A woman rarely conceives if she’s terrified and stressed, which I was. What if they didn’t want to risk my possible refusal and they used something, (maybe through the air vents?), that dulled my anxiety---opened me to the choices they wanted?> I felt sick again at the thought that my decision might not have been my decision and returned to the bedroom to get some clothes.
That was when my other concern, the one that had been nagging formlessly at the back of my mind, crystallized. Jarod wasn't lying in the bed, which wasn’t necessarily unusual, but when listened I couldn't hear a single sound to indicate he was moving around in the living room, either.
Sudden fear made my heart race and my stomach plummet. My hand shook as I tied the sash to my robe and left the bedroom to look for Jarod. I already knew what I would find.
Well, I thought I knew what I'd find. Lyle sitting at the small table was a shock.
"He's gone, isn't he?" I signed with resignation, only then realizing that I was nearly fluent in sign language. How could I not remember what had happened since that day, but I knew how to sign?
"It is past time he went back to work." Lyle agreed, refusing to answer my unspoken question. Would he be returning? The knot of tension in my stomach was telling me "no".
<*Now* its the time for regrets.> I thought dully, wondering how Lyle and Raines would attempt to use my obvious affection for Jarod against me.
"What now?" I asked, knowing I looked as lost and alone as I felt, but lacking the energy to care.
"That depends on the results of this mornings physical." Lyle told me, watching my face closely. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard against the fear rising in my throat.
<They think I’m pregnant. How? I never even had a period that I know of since I came to this awful place.> I thought numbly, ensconced in an icy shell of dismay.
"You know," he murmured, standing and deliberately crowding in on my personal space. "I can make this a lot easier for you." He trailed a suggestive finger down the side of my face. Nausea almost overwhelmed me, so obviously that Lyle took a prudent step backwards before I controlled it with several deep breaths.
<Funny how he and Raines keep using the same tired lines. Don't they realize no one in their right mind would believe them?>
I had no illusions that I was irresistible to Lyle. He wanted to hurt Jarod and he knew his suggestive remarks bothered me. On the other hand, if they’d succeeded, then I couldn't count on Raines to hold him back from me. I barely made it to the bathroom before being sick---much to Lyle’s disgust.
<Good, maybe that’ll cure your libido!> I thought acidly
The nausea finally subsided and I rinsed my mouth out at the sink before returning to the bedroom area. I resolutely ignored the implications of my suddenly sensitive stomach as I selected clean clothes for the day.
Lyle watched me, taking up a position at a safe distance from my weak stomach with one shoulder leaning against the open door between the bedroom and living area. He didn’t try to stop me when I entered the bathroom, clothes in my arms. I closed that door firmly, an action that prompted a chuckle from Lyle.
"Don't you want breakfast first?" Lyle asked me when I reappeared and indicated my readiness to leave. I knew that even if I had been hungry I'd never have been able to swallow past the lurking queasiness. I just shook my head "no".
"Your loss." He shrugged and moved to open the door to the corridor. The guards lurking by the doorway fell into step behind us as Lyle led me towards the medical wing.
I realized suddenly that I still couldn't tell the apes that did Raines' dirty work apart. They might as well have been cloned because they had no distinguishing features to separate them. I wondered if Raines ordered them in matching sets from some secret organization catalogue. Maybe Bullies R Us?
Two faint whooshing sounds pulled me from my slightly hysterical thoughts. I didn't change my pace, but I listened intently and was rewarded by the unmistakable thud of flesh hitting the floor.
Lyle turned, one hand already clutching my arm to prevent my escape.
Standing about two yards from the crumpled bodies of the guards, red tagged darts quivering in their backs, was the trembling form of Broots, a dart gun shaking in his hands as he pulled it up to aim at Lyle. Lyle reacted with admirable speed, even if it was in a completely cowardly fashion, by pulling me in front of him as a shield. My opinion of him hit an all time low.
"You realize you've just committed suicide, don't you, Broots?" Lyle called down the hallway at the timid looking man. Broots raised his chin defiantly---he had more gumption than most people gave him credit for.
"Let her go." Broots answered with commendable tenacity. I caught his eye and gave him my warmest, most grateful smile. This triggered a nervous smile from him in return, and a bright red blush.
"Not a chance." Lyle smiled the charming way he had when he was sure he held the winning hand. "I do hope you weren't stupid enough to join him on this pathetic excuse for a rescue, sister dearest." He added in a louder voice, confident that Miss Parker couldn't be too far away.
Another soft whoosh sounded and Lyle stiffened comically before his eyes rolled back in his head and he too collapsed, almost dragging me down with him.
"Why yes, brother dearest, I did join him." Miss Parker murmured with malevolent satisfaction behind me.
"Well, don't just stand there, move it!" She ordered me, fixing a cold blue stare on me. That was enough to break my paralysis. I pulled free of Lyle's slack grasp and leaned over to grab the darts from the three men, suspecting that it would be best if they weren't found. Before I stepped over Lyle to join the tall brunette, however, I took another moment to give Lyle's unconscious form a swift kick in the ribs. I heard Broots' soft footsteps receding down the hallway in the opposite direction.
"I must say, I'm not impressed." She informed me matter of factly as she led the way through the maze of corridors that comprised most of the Centre. I felt my eyebrow raise mockingly, but I couldn't have responded even if had had felt the inclination to fight with her.
"What, not even one snappy comeback? What does Jarod see in you?" She mocked; pulling me into an elevator that had been waiting while Sydney held the doors for us.
I jerked free of her grip and caught her eye, raising my chin defiantly. It was clear that she was jealous, but so was I. I knew that Jarod had mixed feelings for his childhood companion and friend. It didn’t really matter that neither of us really had a claim on Jarod; we exchanged heated glares for several long moments, much to Sydney's restrained amusement. I finally won that battle of wills when I indicated the thin white scar on my neck. Her sarcastic facade faltered as she realized the import of the scar and a dark flush stained her cheeks as she realized she might have gone just a little too far.
"What happened?" Her voice was carefully neutral, as the caring side of her nature, kept scrupulously hidden from the world, warred with her customary sarcastic facade.
"Raines." I spelled with my hand.
"Ah, yes. Raines." Sydney nodded his head; his face set in lines of compassion but his gaze inquisitive. He looked like he had a hundred questions he wanted to ask me, but knew better than to voice them. I wonder if they dealt with Jarod’s well being, or if they were just an example of analytical curiosity.
"Why?" I signed.
"Not even Jarod deserves this." It was Miss Parker who answered; her gaze fixed firmly on the numbers lighting up over the elevator door when I looked her way.
"Lyle-Raines?" I spelled quickly. "They'll kill you!"
Parker snorted inelegantly. "I don't kill that easy honey." She told me dismissively.
I had to admit that was true, but no one is invulnerable.
"It was your friend, Dr. Johnson who made this possible." Sydney explained gently. "He got a sample of the experimental drug he's working on to us through Nurse Lisa. She and Broots have been quite an item.” Sydney grinned with wry amusement.
<Johnson and Lisa helped me? They risked themselves for me?> Ready tears pricked at my eyelids as I absorbed the enormity of my debt to them.
“The drug wipes out short-term memory, even as it enhances long term memory. Lyle won't remember what happened." Miss Parker explained grudgingly.
I nodded my understanding before spelling out my last question.
"Jarod?" Sydney's expression filled me with foreboding.
"We don't know." He admitted reluctantly. "They moved him this morning and we still don't know where."
Now it was my turn to focus on the floor numbers lighting up while I tried to hide the emotion surging through me. I was escaping---Jarod was still captive. Should I leave him?
"You care about Jarod, don't you?" Sydney's sudden question threw me off guard. I looked at him suspiciously, wondering what those penetrating eyes of his had figured out about me.
Finally I nodded reluctantly."Do you care enough to trust us?" He pressed. Funny, I'd never noticed until then how similar Jarod's speech pattern was to Sydney's, gentle, yet demanding.
"What do you want me to do?" I questioned warily, already suspecting that I wasn't going to like the answer.
"Leave now and trust us to help him." Sydney answered steadily, his eyes boring in on mine as if he could force me by sheer will to agree.
<Leave Jarod here? Trust the people who'd been hunting him for years? Count on them to win his freedom?>
"If you stay." Sydney pressed relentlessly. "You'll simply be a weapon they can use against him and a hindrance to his own escape."
I dropped my eyes first, admitting reluctantly, that Sydney was right, there wasn't anything I could for Jarod at the Centre. And if what I feared was true, it was imperative that I leave now, before it was too late---Jarod would understand, I knew.
"Can I trust you?" I demanded even though I knew I had no choice.
"I will do all I can to help Jarod." It wasn't the promise I wanted, but it was the best I would get. I hoped that my impression that Sydney loved Jarod as a son was correct. Even if he did keep it deep down in his soul where no one was allowed to look.
I nodded my head slowly, fixing Sydney with a steely glare that told him I would hold him personally accountable for what happened to Jarod. Miss Parker caught that look and raised a mocking eyebrow at us.
"Do you really want him in the hands of Raines and Lyle?" I signed, refusing to break eye contact. "Do you hate him that much?"
Miss Parker looked away first.
"No!" She spat out harshly. "No." She repeated again, more normally. "I don't hate Jarod, and I don't want him in their hands. He'll get out of here---I'll see to it." She met my gaze again, a promise gleaming in those hard blue eyes.
I smiled back slowly, knowing that she cared too, no matter how much she wanted to hide it.
"Thank you." I signed, looking at both Parker and Sydney. I had a fleeting desire to ask her first name, but repressed it firmly. I didn't really accept the theory that having two names in the Centre was tantamount to a death sentence, but I didn't want to take the chance either.
The doors to the elevator finally opened, revealing a tiny windowless room. I must have looked slightly panicky because Sydney smiled reassuringly and gestured toward the door on the far wall.
"We're on the roof." He explained, ignoring Miss Parker's impatience. "You can leave any time you want but I suggest you wait until nightfall." He opened the door, proving his words and pointing to a pair of metal rails protruding from the side of the roof. "It will be a long climb down, but when you get to the bottom you'll be on the beach. Follow it south, to town, and use this key to pick up the red Subaru in the Best Mart parking lot on 5th and Main. It has a full tank."I nodded my understanding.
"Good luck." Miss Parker blurted out just before the elevator doors closed on the two of them. She looked surprised and not very happy at her moment of humanity, prompting a silent laugh from me.
The moment they were gone, however, I ignored Sydney's advice to wait, and started down the metal ladder immediately. I wasn't willing to spend another instant at the Centre, and silently determined to take my chances with the ocean before I let them take me back. I don't know if it was fear, determination, or anger that helped me, but I made excellent time. I hit the beach just as alarms began sounding, the shrill cacophony barely reaching the rocky shore where I stood. I kept the tall cliffs to my right and walked swiftly away, south towards town, and was out of sight long before anyone from the Centre thought to look by the beach.
After some searching I found Main Street, and then the Best Mart. The Subaru, a cherry red station wagon, had Oregon plates and two brown leather suitcases. One suitcase was packed with clothing, the other, smaller one, with money and a simple tan file folder holding forged documents. New name, new identity, everything I could possibly need including a license. I tapped the documents against my hand, debating with myself.
<I'm not returning to the Centre, that much is certain. Just how anonymous are these papers? And the Subaru, who purchased it? How? With what funding?> I decided that the pretty vehicle was too much of a risk and left it in the lot.
I made a quick trip inside the Best Mart, making a pile of purchases with some money from the suitcase. When I emerged, after having explained to the manager with a note that I was deaf and would he please call a cab for me, I retrieved the suitcases from the back of the car and waited for my cab in front of the store.
The cab took me to the greyhound bus station where I convinced a sympathetic traveler to purchase my ticket to Chicago for me. I told her I was running away from my abusive husband, noting how her gaze flew to the fading remnants of my black eye after she read the note I handed her.
<Oh, Lyle, if I could only tell you how your brutality backfired!> I exulted, looking at the ticket in my hand with joy and relief.
I exited the bus in New Jersey and found a small, seedy motel where I used one of my Best Mart purchases to dye my hair a bright, copper red. An optometry store in a strip mall supplied contacts that turned my blue eyes green, and a pair of oval, mirrored sunglasses. Finally, I returned to the motel and examined my new wardrobe.
It was worthless. Okay, it was incredibly expensive, but it was worthless to me. I could see Miss Parker's hand in the purchases. Mini skirts, long, business-like jackets, trouser suits and two pairs of spiked high-heeled shoes. I finally selected a beige trouser suit and dropped the rest off at a Salvation Army center with a note asking that it be donated to the local battered women's shelter. I then went to the nearest St. Vincent's and finished my transformation.
I bought a pair of faded, ragged jeans with bell-bottom flares and a tie-dyed tank top my daughter would have loved. I found a pair of well-worn tennis shoes and a navy blue hat that reminded me of Gilligan's Island and decided my wardrobe for the next part of my journey was complete.
I went back to the hotel and spread out the cheap map of the USA I'd purchased on the bed. I closed my eyes, turned the map around three times, and laid my finger blindly on the paper. It had landed on Dinosaur, Colorado, my new home to be. The forged papers went into a dumpster along with the beige suit, and another teen-aged hippie wannabe boarded a greyhound bus the next day.
I left the bus again in Michigan, and, breaking the rule I'd drummed into my children as soon as they could walk and talk, I hitch-hiked to Colorado. I got lucky and an elderly couple returning from a trip to the Grand Canyon took me the rest of the way to Dinosaur.
The man, Sam Flemming, had learned sign language in the military after a close encounter with an explosion deprived him of hearing for several days. He got his hearing back, but decided he'd better learn how to communicate just in case he had another accident. Then, after Sally told me the story of their lives, from courtship, to the death of their only child, Robert, in Viet Nam, and their many journeys now that Sam had retired, she asked me the question I'd been praying she'd never get to.
"So, what's your name?"
"I don't know." I signed, the misery I felt at lying to these nice people making my stomach churn in a way that it hadn't since I'd set foot on the beach outside the Centre.
"You don't know your name?" Sally exclaimed incredulously. "Where are your people?"
"I don't know."
Sam pulled over to the side of the road.
"Okay," he turned around in his seat. "Are you telling us you have amnesia?"
I nodded reluctantly.
"Honey you should be in a hospital!" Sally insisted, her kind face creasing with worry. I paled and shook my head vigorously.
"Why not?" Sam asked reasonably.
"I don't know." I signed, starting the story I'd worked out during my time on the bus. "I woke up in an alley with bruises all over me and this backpack full of money. I didn't know I couldn't talk at first but later I discovered this scar." I indicated my neck. "And I have nightmares about a man chasing me, wanting to hurt me. I can't go to a hospital, I can't go to the police, I can't risk him finding me."
"Where were you---when you woke up in this alley." Sam demanded warily.
"On the East Coast---in Delaware." I signed, deliberately not giving a name.
"Is this man a husband? A boyfriend? Maybe your father?" He pressed for details.
"I don't know." I signed my misery increasing. "He's too young to be my father. Look, maybe I should just go!"
"No you don't, young lady." Sally jumped in firmly, laying a restraining hand on my arm when I reached for the door handle. "Sam, you back off right now!" She ordered him firmly. "Can't you see you're frightening the girl!"
She made him pull back onto the freeway, probably to prevent my exit from the car, and told me to lay down and relax for a while. I heard them talking, though, when they thought I'd fallen asleep in the back seat.
"Sally, do you have any idea how dangerous it is to take a total stranger home?" Sam expostulated in harsh whisper.
"Sam, that little girl is not dangerous. She's scared to death!" Sally responded placidly.
"Of course she's scared to death. She probably stole that bag of money and has some pretty nasty people after her. She no more has amnesia than you do."
"Of course she doesn't, dear. But she's no criminal and she is terrified. I don't know where the money came from, but considering the scar on her neck and the black eye I saw under her makeup, I'd say she's more than earned it one way or another." Sally's gentle voice had a layer of steel underneath it.
"Sally, you've got to stop rescuing every stray we come across, dear." Sam conceded defeat gracefully.
"We'll just have to give her a safe place to build up her strength---the girl is far to thin---and eventually she'll come to trust us enough to tell us the entire story." Sally predicted contentedly. I almost felt like telling them the whole story right then and there, but I knew I could never put them in the kind of danger that the Centre represented.
Sam followed his wife's instructions, putting me up in the studio apartment that he'd put in over the garage for their long dead son. He determined that I had office skills, and got me a position in the local doctor's office. The doctor wasn't happy in employing someone with no identification, but Sam promised he'd get my lost ID replaced right away.
I didn't ask any questions when Sam presented me with a new driver's license, birth certificate, and social security card with the name I'd chosen---Anne Rose Rambler. I told them to call me Rose, though, and we settled into a comfortable routine.
Sally kept waiting for me to come clean with my dark past, never realizing that the issue wasn't trust, but safety. Sam and I would walk every night after dinner, which Sally insisted that I take with them, and he questioned me discretely during our walks. I think he'd finally realized that I was afraid to tell them anything solid for their sakes, not mine, because he stopped trying after a few weeks. I gradually relaxed as time went by and would have been completely happy, if I could have only stopped vomiting every morning when I first woke up.
For two months I told myself that the morning sickness was just a reaction to the previous weeks of stress, until the day I couldn't button my jeans. Two day's later I had to retreat to the bathroom when Sally placed a well done steak in front of me and I finally gave up and admitted to myself that Raines had succeeded and I was pregnant. Unfortunately, Sally and Sam both knew the signs as well as I did.
"Rose, dear, its time for you to come clean with us." Sally announced firmly, standing in the open door to the bathroom where I'd been throwing up everything left in my stomach. "C'mon, wash out your mouth, wipe your face, and join us in the living room. I'll have some orange juice and crackers waiting for you."
"Best do as she says, young lady." Sam chimed in from the hallway behind her. "She's the toughest drill sergeant I've ever known."
I leaned back against the wall, still sitting on the bathroom floor, and nodded tiredly. I was shaky and flushed, but I knew the worst was over. I just waited a few moments to collect my thoughts, before
dragging myself to the sink."Rose, we know something's wrong." Sam said as soon as I seated myself in the cushioned rocker, concern shadowing his face. "Now, we've tried to be patient, but its time to be honest with us. What is going on? And don't try the amnesia story, we all know better."
I looked at them both, sitting together on the couch and holding hands like newlyweds, and struggled with the overwhelming desire to tell them everything and let someone else worry for a while.
"I can't." I finally signed. "It's too dangerous."
"Hon, unless you're fighting with the Mafia it isn't too dangerous. I've got resources you don't know about yet." Sam contradicted me gently.
"These people make the Mafia look like boy scouts." I rebutted firmly.
"Okay, then tell us what you can." Sally broke in reasonably. I looked at her, momentarily at a loss. Could I actually tell them part of the story? I'd never even considered that! Where had my mind been?
"We want to help, girl." Sam added, exasperation bleeding through into his voice.
"When is the baby due?" Sally asked calmly, startling both Sam and I with her bluntness.
A reluctant smile pulled at my lips. Sally was nothing if not determined. I finally accepted that I wasn't going to win this particular argument, surprised at the sensation of release I felt at the thought.
So I explained to them that a ruthless corporation, that appeared to be
able to operate above the law, had kidnapped me. I told them that they'd had a child prodigy working for them who'd escaped as an adult and then managed elude their efforts to retrieve him. They wanted another child prodigy, I added, choosing my words carefully, preferably fathered by the original."So did this prodigy---?" Sam asked from behind me. I nodded sadly.
"I don't think I want to know how they accomplished that." He murmured thoughtfully. "So how did you escape?"
"He had friends inside the organization."
"Why isn't he here? With you?" Sally wanted to know, her romantic heart angered at this miscarriage of justice.
"I don't even know if he got out. They separated us just hours before his friends rescued me. But even if he did, Sally, we weren't the love match of the century. We were breeding stock." Nausea rose again as I signed the brutal truth.
"I took great precautions to disappear after my escape. I didn't use the ID his friends provided. I don't want him to know where I am. If he could find me so could the others."
"Not necessarily." Sam cautioned sensibly. "Remember, they want him for his brains, which indicates he's capable of figuring out things they can't."
"You already suspected you were pregnant, didn't you?" Sally probed.
I sighed and nodded my head. They'd never have tried to put Jarod back to work if they hadn't thought it had been successful.
"Don't you think he has a right to know?" Sally pressed gently.
"Yes, he does." I admitted simply. "I don't like the choice I've made---I don't like choosing for him. Family is very important to him and he'd be here if I knew where I was and suspected I carried his child, but he can't know."
I stopped, trying to figure out how to explain my decision, especially since it was completely indefensible by normal standards.
"I can't put the child at risk." I signed slowly, trying to make them understand the importance of what I was saying. "If the---corporation in question---found us they'd take it away from me. If they still
have---the prodigy, they'd try for more babies, and they'd put all of us through hell, like they did---him. I don't think I could live with that. I didn't ask for this child," I looked at my friends, tears wending slowly down my cheeks. "But I'll protect it with my life. The---father, he's looking for his own family. The ones he was stolen from as a boy. He isn't ready to go into hiding like this---and that makes him dangerous to us.""Okay, I'll concede that you don't think it would be a good idea to look for this man." Sam agreed reluctantly. "But why haven't you at least asked Dr. Black for a check up? You have to take care of
yourself, you know.""Records." I signed briefly.
"Dr. Black is a friend of mine. If I tell him you need to be invisible, he'll understand and keep you hidden. You're seeing him as a patient and not an employee tomorrow." Sam declared firmly.
"We'll help you, Rose." Sally told me gently, coming over to pat my shoulder. "You aren't alone anymore."
Their support broke down the last of my defenses, and I started to cry in earnest. Sally shooed Sam out of there and set about comforting me as I cried out several months' worth of worry, fear, and anguish. Fortunately, she was more than up for the task.
Once again life settled into a comfortable routine. Sally stopped serving meat, much to Sam's dismay, as soon as she realized it triggered my nausea and cooked hearty meatless meals instead. Dr. Black confirmed the pregnancy and put me on multi-vitamins. He also took the time to reassure me that he'd keep my records at home, rather than at the office. I refused Sally's nightly offers to move into the house on a regular basis and, except for the morning sickness, started to feel pretty good. By my fourth month, however, I had ballooned far more than was normal and Dr. Black ordered an ultrasound.
The news that I was having twins came as something of a shock. When they found the third baby on the follow up ultrasound I started to worry. I was beginning to suspect that Raines had ensured my fertility with the use of drugs, when it appeared nature wasn't going to be cooperative. I was even angrier with him than I had been. Didn't he know how dangerous it was to expose a woman on fertility drugs to the risk of immediate pregnancy?
I started to worry---how many fetuses were there? I'd heard of eight or more when fertility drugs were used, and just carrying triplets was risky. And what was I going to do for the birth? The tiny facility of Dinosaur couldn't possibly have the means to care for premature and/or low birth weight infants, which was pretty much a given in multiple births. I worried so much that I started to lose weight, developing permanent dark circles under my eyes and prompting Dr. Black to hire a temp for the office and send me home on what he called an extended leave. He promised to have another ultrasound done in the next week after I confessed my fears and told me to rest or he'd give me something to make me rest. I promised to behave.
<Oh, God!> I thought grimly. <Three babies? Even if that's all I'm carrying how am I going to take care of three all by myself? How can I go to a hospital and risk being on their records? How can I not?>
I was stuck directly in between my need to keep the babies safe from discovery and the need to keep them alive if they were low birth weight. Sally finally convinced me to move into the house, but none of us had a solution for the birth. Once again I overheard them discussing me.
"Sam, we have to figure something out." Sally had caught Sam on his way out of the bathroom. "She can't afford to lose anymore weight but all she does is fret. And she's having dreadful nightmares."
"Damn those people!" Sam swore violently. "How can they possibly get away with such monstrosities. This is the United States, for God's sake!"
"That's not something we can help, Sam." Sally pulled him back on task gently. "It's Rose and the babies that are important now."
"Actually, my dear, I think I may have something to help there----"
At that point Sally shushed him and led him off to the kitchen and out of range for even my sensitive ears.
Then-----Jarod arrived.
I was walking along the outskirts of the Flemming's ten acres, listlessly following Sally's instructions to "get a breath of fresh air and stretch my legs", and worrying, as usual. A tall man with dark hair stepped out of the shadows of a stand of pine trees as I passed by.
"Why didn't you use the ID Sydney got for you?" I jumped, and then sagged as my knees weakened with relief when I recognized Jarod.
"Don't DO that!" I signed, gasping for breath and trying to hide the surge of joy that coursed through me behind irritation. Part of me had been expecting his arrival since the day I'd settled down.
"Sit down." Jarod propelled me firmly to a fallen, half-rotted log. It was probably the same seat he'd used while waiting for me to walk by. Just how did he know I'd be walking by, though?
"That's better." He announced as my color returned and my breathing steadied. "Now, back to my question. Why didn't you use the ID?"
"I didn't know if it was safe." I signed reluctantly. "Is the Centre chasing behind you?"
"I doubt it." He answered, his troubled eyes examining me carefully. "I don't think your friend Sam is about to give them a hint as to your whereabouts. It took me three hours to I convince him he could trust me with your location. Why didn't you try to contact me? Especially when you knew---?" He eyed my protruding belly significantly.
"I was afraid to." I answered simply. "You expose yourself to the Centre every time you do one of your rescues and I'm not willing to take the chance of them finding me through you. Especially not now when it's even more important that I stay hidden from the Centre." I paused, and then finally added, "And I didn't want you to have to choose."
He passed his hand over his face, almost as if he was trying to wipe off his troubled expression.
"I thought that maybe you couldn't bear to see me after---"
I got up, capturing his hand and drawing him down to sit beside me.
"No." I signed earnestly, "I have no bad feelings about you. The little I remember of our time together--" I was blushing fiercely by now, but Jarod was grinning. "They're good memories." I admitted.
"Good." Jarod answered firmly, pulling a flat jewelry box from his pocket. "Will you put this on? For me?"
I shook my head, until he opened the box, revealing a strip of blue velvet about an inch wide with a cameo fixed to the center of it. My brows drew inward in a troubled frown---a choker, what was this all about? What could a necklace possibly have to do with anything?
"It's something I worked on after I escaped the Centre, while I was trying to find you. You covered your tracks very well." He added with flattering admiration that was mixed with a remainder of frustration.
The brooch was set in a metal base that was thicker and heavier than I'd expected, but expectancy on Jarod's face still made no sense to me. Becoming impatient with my contemplation of his gift, Jarod lifted it from my hands and fastened it around my neck for me.
"Go ahead." He urged, his face lit up with boyish excitement. He was obviously thrilled with himself. I looked at him curiously, go ahead what? I asked him with an upraised brow.
"Say something." The brow lifted higher, but when Jarod had that particular expectant look on his face I found it quite impossible to refuse him. It reminded me of my children begging to open just one gift the night before Christmas.
"Umm----" my brief foray into speech halted abruptly as I heard a mellow female voice respond to my halfhearted attempt to speak.
"Jarod?" The voice, not my old voice but a perfectly acceptable one, nonetheless, inquired hesitantly for me.
"It's a voice synthesizer. The microchip inside interprets the movement of your throat into the words that you would have spoken. It's amazing what we can do with computer technology, isn't it?"
"I--I can't believe it." And I couldn't. After over six months with no voice I just couldn't accept that I could once again speak. After all the months alone, worrying, I couldn't accept that Jarod was here. Especially when I'd never allowed myself to contemplate the possibility that he might want to find me.
"Now tell me, what were you planning to do? And just when are you due? Aren't you a little---" Even Jarod knew better than to use the words "big" or "fat" with a pregnant woman. I laughed, enjoying the sound of it after months of silence.
"Ummm, I think that Raines might have tried to help things along a little. The last ultrasound showed three."
Jarod's eyes glazed over.
"Triplets?"
"Well, twins did run in my family, and it was supposed to be my generation's turn, but I still suspect outside help on this one."
"Triplets?"
"Yes, that means three." I prompted expectantly. "Hello, Earth to Jarod!" I waved my hand in front of his face, finally bringing his attention back to the present.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Jarod, I didn't even know if you could escape the Centre a second time. Raines did promise to keep you drugged day and night if he had to."
"Yes, well he tried to follow through on that, too. Whatever did you say to Miss Parker, anyway? I never expected her to actually exert herself to do something her father would have disapproved of so much. Especially not within the sacred halls of the Centre."
I gathered that Miss Parker and Sydney had made good on their promise to me and found myself smiling at the memory of that fateful elevator ride.
"I didn't really have to say anything." I admitted with painful honesty, not at all eager to suggest that Jarod start thinking of Parker in a more friendly light. "She really does care about you, you know. So do Broots and Sydney."
"Well, they all somehow managed to have the vials of the drug replaced with identical look-alikes filled with sterile water. Since I could still think clearly, that's all the help I needed. I left the moment that I received the message that you'd gotten safely away---probably even in the same week."
"I'm sorry, Jarod, but I really wish you hadn't found me. I have to find another hiding place and I'll never have the luck that I did with the Flemmings. I know that you want to help, to be involved, but
that's just not practical.""Annie," the catch in his husky voice warned me that I wasn't going to win this argument. I made a mental note to do something about my vulnerability to his vulnerability. It wasn't fair for him to win all the arguments just because I couldn't say "no" when he got that hurt, lost little boy look on his face.
"I know that you've convinced yourself that you've made the right choice to protect the babies, and that's why I can forgive you, but I'm not going to let any of you vanish on me. Maybe I developed a resistance to the Centre's memory altering gas, because I remember quite a bit of what happened between the day Lyle drugged me and the day you escaped. I thought that we'd forged a----connection."
"Jarod, I---" I tried to protest, wishing I could remember more about that time.
"But I don't mind starting over again from scratch." Jarod determinedly pushed past my feeble objection. "Just don't try to take this family away from me too, please!"
The worst thing about pregnancy is that it magnifies and brings to the surface emotions. I felt tears welling in my eyes as Jarod made his plea.
"But Jarod," I whispered, trying to stop the tears even as they spilled over. "What about your search for your mother and father and sister? What about your crusade against the Centre? I can't ask you to give those up."
"I'm a genius, remember?" He promised, gently wiping away the tears. "I'll figure it out. The important thing is that I'll do it with you, not alone. Now, if you hate me after what happened, I can understand and I'll leave you alone. But if you care about me, even a little, then you aren't getting rid of me. We're in this together."
"I don't know." I hedged, wondering just how much of a risk it would be to do things Jarod's way.
"Then consider this---" Jarod took the argument to an entirely new, and completely unfair, level with the simple expedient of capturing my lips for a long, slow kiss. It was the kind that my memory had stubbornly kept alive night after night in the few dreams I had between nightmares. Dreams that left me in the morning with damp cheeks and empty longings.
"Not fair." I breathed when we surfaced for air.
"All's fair in love and war." He breathed back and recaptured my lips, obviously feeling the need to make another point.
I stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and willingly conceded the argument.
<After all, Jarod's the genius>, I reasoned dreamily, <he knows what he's doing.>
The End