Jaq With a Q

by Jettie Woodruff

  “Okay, good. I’m about to start the movie. You can lay your phone down and put your things away if you want.”

  “Okay. I’ll put it on speaker.”

  She didn’t need to do that. I could hear every word she said through the speakers on her computer, but she of course didn’t know that part. Jaq cautiously removed the contents from the bag, and for a brief second, I thought she was on to me. She held the bag of pads into the air, her eyes darting around the room and her posture in a frozen state. My heart picked up a few extra beats, heavy thumps pounding in my ears as I watched, observing her every move. I have no idea what went through her mind, but she never mentioned it. Not once. She took them and went straight into the bathroom, emerging with a little lighter expression. At least, that’s how it appeared to me. A little bit of junk food and the needed feminine products were a simple pleasure for her. Something most of us take for granite on a daily basis.

  Jaq watched the movie and devoured junk food while I took notes. I’m almost sure I saw a smile here and there, but not enough to call it that. One thing I found peculiar was our phone call. We never spoke again, yet she didn’t hang up. I jotted that down in my notebook. Was it a security thing? Did she feel safer knowing I was an earshot away? Sometimes I wondered where she went. Her eyes would drift off, a lost daze taking her to a place I desperately wanted to know.

  Before the credits started to roll, Jaq picked up her phone, closing the lid on her laptop. I groaned, not wanting her to do that. “Well, goodnight.”

  I had things I wanted to say, yet nothing came to mind. “Goodnight, Jaq.”

  The only camera I could see her from was the one in the living room, and then briefly from the kitchen. Jaq took all four bottles of pills, counting them at least a half dozen times before taking them, and then she disappeared to get ready for bed. Only she didn’t get ready for bed. She turned on every light in the apartment, double checked the locks on the door, shoved the couch with her knees and locked herself in her bathroom. I switched to full screen, focusing on her bedroom where she’d be crawling into bed, the man in me overruling the scientist in me; although, I’m not sure why. My assumption of what she wore to bed wasn’t even logical for the person she was. I was sure I wouldn’t be watching her slide out of baggy boy jeans and into a cute little night shirt. Jaq wouldn’t slide out of anything. I would have betted my life on it.

  She didn’t and I didn’t have to worry about seeing her bare legs, her breasts, or anything else for that matter. Jaq never left the bathroom. I waited, and waited, but she never emerged. Surely she didn’t stay in there all night. But she did. At one point around one in the morning, I heard her humming and then watched the light below the door being switched on and off, keeping tune with a song that sounded an awful lot like the nursery rhyme, “It’s raining, it’s pouring,” and then I heard her soft voice singing the words faintly through the door.

  With my ear turned toward the speaker in my laptop, I listened to the faint words on the other side of the door. “It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring. He went to bed with a lump on his head, and didn’t get up in the morning. Didn’t get up in the morning, didn’t get up in the morning, didn’t get up in the morning.”

  Over and over she sang, the last words keeping rhythm with the light below the door. It was at that very moment I realized the last verse was about death. All the years of knowing the catchy tune, and I never caught that part. Jaq did. She sang it for at least an hour, but only the part where he didn’t get up in the morning. Glancing at the time and then my notes, I yawned, wondering about my own sleep. I had work, and my alarm would be ringing in five hours. Did she sleep? Ever?

  A siren from afar startled me from a slumped sleep two hours later. It took me several minutes to realize it wasn’t coming from my street; it was from my computer, Jaq’s street. My heart plummeted to my feet and then beat hard in my chest. Jaq plus a siren. The thought hitting me like a pile of bricks being dropped from thin air, crushing every bone in my body, mostly my lungs.

  I sat up and looked to my screen, my beating heart settling in my chest. The bathroom light was still on, and the only noise was the fading siren, but I had no idea what went on behind that bathroom door. However, I did know that the camera from the unused bedroom needed to be moved. How? That was the question. Seeing the time in the lower right corner, I rubbed my face and walked toward the coffee pot and then the shower.

  Hot water rained over me while I thought about Albert Hofmann and my father’s formula. Albert was a Swiss scientist known best for being the first person to synthesize, ingest, and learn of the psychedelic effects of lysergic acid diethylamide. My father studied him and spoke very highly of him. The photographic memory I had been born with couldn’t see it. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t recall the formula. Perhaps because I was twelve and not interested in crazy girls who slept in bathrooms.

  I sputtered water from my lips, laughing at my lack of interest in social environments. People often tried to diagnose me with silly phobias, but that’s not where I was. Not even a little. Mine was just that, uninterested in shallow minds, but Jaq’s was different than that. She didn’t go around people because she couldn’t, not because she didn’t want to.

  Jaq was curled into a tiny ball at the end of the sofa, sound asleep when I emerged. I glanced at the time and poured a fresh cup of coffee, feeling the effects of no sleep in my eyes, and the strange empathy in my heart. More empathy than I had ever felt in my life stared back at me as I slid to the table behind my laptop. She looked so peaceful and something deep inside me wanted her to feel that amity when she was awake, too. Yes, of course, it was about my father’s work that burned deep inside me, but she meant just as much. I considered why, sipping my coffee, my glasses fogging from the steam.

  That day may have been the longest day of my life. The app for the cameras in Jaq’s apartment wouldn’t load, Wallace wouldn’t respond to my texts, and of all days, I had a cache invalidation that needed my full attention. I didn’t even care about having a reason to call her. The only thing I cared about was her answering my call, hearing her voice, and knowing she was okay. The why part became less important. There was something strong pulling me toward her, and I planned to explore it. The why was irrelevant at this point. It was replaced with the what. What the hell to do next?

  The lake house needed to be next. I felt that with everything in me, but I didn’t even know if the place was still standing. I knew the taxes were paid from mine and Silas’s trust fund, but that’s it. Who knew what it looked like?

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, how are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Like a baby.”

  I snickered at her sarcasm, knowing there was life in there. “Did you eat? I sent oatmeal. It’s my favorite breakfast.”

  “I will eat later.”

  “No, you eat now. Nourishment is part of getting better. You need to eat.”

  “I will, I just don’t want to use it all up.”

  A deep breath filled my lungs when I realized what she meant. She felt the need to rationalize what I had sent. “Go eat, Jaq. I’m never going to let you run out of food.”

  “You’ll leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. Let me take you to the lake house. I swear you’ll love it there. There’s no people.”

  “I’m not going there. I like it like this. I like talking to you.”

  It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was what I expected. At least she liked talking to me. That in itself was a breakthrough. “I have to get back to work, but I would like to come up later.”

  “No, I don’t want you to come here. I only like it like this.”

  I knew that wouldn’t fly with her either, but it was worth a try. One of these days she would say yes, sooner than later would be okay. “Fine, I’ll send Wallace.”

  “I don’t need anything. I don’t want Wal
lace to come here.”

  “So you’re good on your meds? You don’t need them anymore?”

  “Oh, okay, he can come. What time?”

  “I’m not going to tell you. You’ll just worry about it all day. This evening sometime. I sent you some choices for supper tonight. Look through the menu’s and tell me what you would like. I’ve got to go,” I said again, the issue with my real job needing my attention.

  “I don’t care. You can pick.”

  “No, I’m not going to do that. I want you to make that decision.”

  “You’re being just like Mrs. Bacon. I hate her.”

  That got my attention. The name belonging to her laptop, or vice-versa. “Mrs. Bacon?”

  “She made me do that kind of stuff before she left me. You’re just trying to do what she did. I’ve already played this game. I never win.”

  I looked back to my coworker, Martin, asking me what the hell I was doing with no words, an open hand toward the computer lab. “I’ve got to get back to work, Jaq. This is not a game. This is life. Maybe it’s time you grow up and quit trying to play it like one.”

  “You don’t have to be in it.”

  “Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave you alone?”

  “No, I want you to end it. That’s the only thing I want from you. Wallace could even do it. I bet you could get him to do it.”

  I grumbled a gurgle from deep in my throat, my exasperation evident. “Go eat. I’ll call you later.”

  “Bye, Ollie.”

  “Oliver. Goodbye, Jaq.”

  Chapter Four

  For two full weeks I observed her every move, using Wallace to get in and out. I don’t know what I would have done without that kid, let alone what Jaq would have done. There was little doubt about her starving to death had I not intervened. I was sure she would have withered away to nothing, alone just waiting to perish. Her will to die was definitely stronger than her will to live, yet she wouldn’t do it herself.

  Two full weeks was spent with little sleep, a lack of interest in my job, including four call ins due to my specimen, and four more failed attempts to get the camera from the bedroom to the bathroom. With very little sleep, Jaq stayed there every night. Locked behind the door. She would peek her head out, look around, and emerge just after daylight. And then she would curl into a fetal position and sleep at one end of her sofa, three hours of sound sleep at the most. No wonder she was crazy.

  Our calls became more relaxed, but I couldn’t get her to talk about much. She knew what she was afraid of, and that’s what she focused on. The male species seemed to terrify her most, but I hadn’t been able to find out why. She closed up. I could talk to her about movies, food, bits and pieces about her five year stay in a mental hospital for juveniles, but that’s about it. I patched the pieces together, unsure if they were right or not. Without exact words, in a roundabout way, she told me about a hospital stay for appendicitis. Right after that was when she was taken to the clinic. Where she came from was the gap I couldn’t fill, not without more information.

  Jaq was a pistol when she wanted to be, when she didn’t want to answer my probing questions. Actually, she turned into an immature brat. The things that came out of her mouth were things you would hear from an elementary school playground. She thought my name was stupid, she hated the groceries she’d asked for, and she even called me a poop-head once after asking about her parents.

  The one thing she seemed to accept with open arms was what I could give her. Asking me for what she wanted seemed to be the only easy thing for her. That caused me to consider which one of us was really being manipulated here. She wasn’t dumb, by any means, and she tried to use that against me more than once.

  “Why can’t you just give me the pills? They’re all natural. I read all about it. They could save my life and you don’t even care.”

  Yes, I blocked that site right away. “Jaq, you do not have liver failure. You don’t need that, and I’m not sending it. Do you want Chinese tonight? I think I’ll get the house fried rice.”

  “I hate rice, and I hate you.”

  I could have reminded her about the single serving of black-beans and rice she’d asked for on her shopping list, or the other night when I watched her eat half a carton of shrimp and vegetable rice. I didn’t because she knew. “I don’t understand your capacity for suffering.”

  “I don’t even know what that means. You’re just trying to make me feel stupid.”

  “You know exactly what it means. You sit around and concoct these ridiculous diseases in your mind until you make yourself believe it. Think about something else.”

  I walked to my window and looked out, my eyes darting back to the screen and Jaq’s angry face, smiling for unknown reasons. Maybe Jaq just hadn’t met her match yet. Theories of her entire life being sugarcoated crossed my mind. There was no doubt that something, or someone, made her this way, but there was uncertainty as to why she was still like this. I had a good hunch a lot of it was simply a matter of giving in to her, possibly due to the workers from the home she was in. My research from there wasn’t much help either. Those people didn’t care about her. Those people copy and pasted the same record day after day after day. They also met at the local bar every night after work. Jaq was nothing more than a job to them; therefore, Jaq slipped through the cracks. What she was slipping from and where I wanted her was implanted so far into my mind that I couldn’t see anything else.

  “You’re not even a doctor. You don’t know what I have, and you’re stupid, and I hate you.”

  “My brother’s beeping in my ear. Think about Chinese, I’ll talk to you in a little while.”

  “No, I’m not eating Chinese and I’m never talking to you again. Go away. Leave me alone.”

  “Bye, Jaq,” I said in a nonchalant tone, her words unheard. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard them at least ten times before, yet she would answer my call the very next time.

  I shook my head at the loud raspberry she sputtered in my ear, sure her mind was that of a child, not an eighteen-year-old young lady.

  “Hey, Silas. What’s up?”

  “You still going to the house this weekend?”

  “Yup, leaving tomorrow.”

  “I’m coming, too. We’ll spend the weekend there.”

  “Really? I wasn’t planning on staying. Only the night. I kind of need to be here for Jaq.”

  “Oh, you’re seeing her now?”

  “Well, not exactly, but we talk at least three times a day.”

  “Then you can stay. You can talk on the phone from there. Come on. I’m between deals. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I tossed a worm in the water? I’ll help you mow and clean up the place.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that. Surely Mother Nature had taken over. The thought was pushed to the side when I decided the house was more important. A clean, cut landscape could wait.

  “So you’re okay with me taking her there now?”

  The hesitation was obviously disapproval, and I suddenly realized his plan was an attempt to get me alone. Silas wasn’t okay with it at all. Silas planned to talk some sense into me, get me away from the drug, and hope like hell I accepted the withdrawals, but I wouldn’t. Not until she was there; not until she was out of that apartment.

  “Not at all. I can’t even talk to you without you bringing this chick up. It’s consumed you in an extremely fast manner. I don’t like it, Oliver. You have got to get a hold of yourself. Did you go to work today?”

  I rolled my eyes at that one. “I have to go. You can come if you want, but not if you’re only doing it to get in my way.”

  An audible groan filled the waves between us, and I knew he’d be there. Silas would always be there. He may not always agree, but he’d be there. A life of unfortunate events had confirmed that, time and time again.

  It was later that night, after Jaq ate all of the rice she didn’t want, when she’d locked herself in her bathroom for the night. I couldn�
�t sleep, and I wanted in that bathroom. Did she sleep on the floor or did she really stay awake the entire night? Surely not. There was no way she could function on the couple hours she slept in the morning, yet I couldn’t prove that. Not without knowing whether or not she slept in there.

  When I called her, I had merely planned to coax her into getting her laptop, but that wasn’t what I got.

  Her tone was anxious, quick words shooting out without a pause. “Hello, why are you calling me now? Why aren’t you in bed sleeping?”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. Did I wake you?” I questioned, feigning ignorance that she would never get.

  “No, I wasn’t sleeping either. I haven’t slept for many months, not even for a few minutes. I just read an article where this guy had something called, oh I forget, but it’s very serious, a genetic mutation is probably taking over my body right now. I tried to look it up, so I could read more about it, but my computer is junk and stupid.”

  I couldn’t get a word in edge wise, Jaq’s mind was in a determined state. Therefore, my words were brushed over with her self-diagnosing babble. “You just said the key word, Jaq. Genetic. Did your mother or father die from it, did anyone in your family die from fatal familial insomnia?”

  “Yes, that’s it. FFI. That’s what I have. That’s why I can’t sleep. You know I’m probably not going to need you. When sleep doesn’t come, death does. That’s what it said. The article. I could live for months in a twilight world. That’s how horrible it is. It happens fast, too, like in months. Maybe we shouldn’t wait. You know? I wouldn’t want to suffer like that.”

  Telling Jaq she wasn’t dying from that disease was like telling Silas to pick one girl. Therefore, I didn’t even try. I moved around it.

  “How about a game of Sudoku? Maybe it will help us sleep.”

  “I just told you I was dying and you want to play a stupid game?”

  For a second, I fell into a daze, a deep thought of wanting to go deep. Right that second. I wanted to ask her about the dying, wondering why it consumed her so much. Obviously, that didn’t happen. Unsure of how to go about it just yet kept me from pressing forward.