by Van Fleisher
When her mom passed away a few years ago, Marianne lost the only person who knew the terrible story that haunted them both.
She left I-75 and continued south, down London’s Main Street with all the familiar fast-food outlets. London hadn’t changed much – high crime rate, school drop-out rate, and unemployment. It was still early, and there were few cars on the road. The town was as lifeless as Marianne hoped the remainder of her family would soon be, and she was counting on the early hour to ensure that her brother and father would still be sleeping when she arrived.
She turned onto Old Whitley Road and then into the trailer park. Her mom’s friend, who had helped them escape twenty-four years ago, had stayed in touch and told Marianne where her father and brother were living. She spotted the lot number and pulled in next to a battered old pickup. She took the Glock from her purse, and as the leaflet explained, she ‘racked-the-slide,’ which chambered the first round. Gun in hand, she banged on the flimsy door. Her bleary-eyed brother opened it with one hand while he rubbed his eyes with the other. Now with both eyes very widely open, he was staring at the barrel of a gun.
Marianne motioned and said, “Inside,” as her brother backed into the trailer. It was fairly dark inside, so she ordered her brother to turn on a light. The trailer looked as she’d imagined it – filthy and cluttered, the kitchen area overflowing with beer cans, partially empty snack bags, pornographic magazines, cups and ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, and other debris. But it was the stench that overwhelmed her … stale beer, filthy clothes, and cigarette smoke embedded in any absorbable material available. Her nose immediately stuffed up to protect her, and her eyes watered against the onslaught of foul odors. She could see that her brother had been sleeping on the couch. Beyond the closed door at the back must be a small bedroom ... and her main objective.
Her brother was now more awake, with his eyes focused on the gun. “Call your dad out here,” Marianne ordered.
Her brother took a few steps, banged on the closed door, and shouted, “Pa, come out here … now!”
Slowly the door opened, and her grizzled father came out in his underwear, rubbing his eyes, much the same as his son. As he focused his vision, however, he jolted to a wide-awake state of fear very quickly, “Shit, it’s Marianne.”
Her brother’s eyes slowly shifted up from the gun and looked at Marianne, any color from the warmth of his bed draining from his face.
Marianne’s father tried to establish some authority and regain his composure by sneering, “What the fuck do you want?”
Marianne replied, “To paraphrase Johnny Cash, just to watch you die,” as she quickly squeezed off two shots, hitting them both in the stomach. The two bodies thumped to the floor, bleeding profusely, mouths agape with pain, and disbelief. Marianne watched for a few seconds, long enough to look each of them in the eye. Then she put an extra round into each of their heads.
Desperate for fresh air, she left the trailer and went to her car. The trailer park was still quiet and dark. Perhaps gunshots are pretty normal around here, she thought.
She retraced her route back through town to the I-75, stopping at a mailbox to deposit her gun. During her drive to Blue Grass Airport, for her return flight to Chicago, she dredged up her memories from the past; going back to that day, her father announced he was taking her to the park.
She was twelve years old, and she was thrilled that her father even took notice of her. They stopped at a motel, and her father asked her to come with him as he needed to see someone for just a minute. Inside the dingy motel room, the ‘someone’ was the first of possibly hundreds of tricks she would be forced into before escaping. That first time her father held her down, slapping her face until she lay there quietly, sobbing, as one after another beer-breathed men were let in by her father, as he clutched their money in his hand.
And it didn’t stop there. Once, instead of another older man, it was her brother who joined in, and after that, she was fair game for him, any time, any place, if her mother wasn’t around. When Marianne told her mother about her day ‘at the park’ with her father, her mother angrily accosted him, only to be brutally beaten, with threats of even worse if she or Marianne ever told anyone.
Marianne tried to remember everything from those years in hell, driving carefully while wiping away her tears, in the hope that the fears, thoughts and even the double execution she had just carried out could be erased. As she waited for her flight, she glanced at her watch, and with sad recognition, she knew that this was one thing that wouldn’t go away – alternating with the time on her watch was the message, “This is your FINAL NOTICE.” Marianne had removed the source of her personal hell, but she had less than a week to live.
Her crime, if you could call it that, might have gone undiscovered had it not been for the Final Notice recipient list that Vijay was sending Zoe. Marianne’s gun was discovered in a mailbox and given to the London Police. It was traced to the store where she had bought it, using her father’s address. There was no urgency, and so, a week later, when an officer went to the trailer park, he found the two very dead bodies, who had been killed with the gun the officer had with him.
When the London Police reported the crime so that Marianne Abbott could be contacted, the FBI found her name on the Final Notice list. Her flights to and from Lexington and the rental car details confirmed her as the prime suspect, but by that time, just as her VT2 had predicted, Marianne had passed away. Before dying, however, she wrote a long and detailed letter to her mother’s friend, thanking her for her help, both recently and twenty-four years ago. Marianne provided details of the motel and her father’s operation and asked her friend to share it with the police. She had ensured that her father and brother would not be able to harm anyone, ever again, but sadly, she also knew that she wasn’t the only girl in the world to go through that particular hell on earth.
***
Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts. Although it seemed apparent that Marianne had killed the two Abbotts, Zoe sent a note to Vijay to see if there was anything else that he could see that might lend more credibility. What he saw did indeed indicate, by her emotional stages, that she could be capable of murder. But there was one other piece of information that Vijay possessed that assured him of her guilt.
He was excited by the similarities to Mildred Pierce’s behavior. Both had gone through the same range of emotions, but while Pierce’s emotions were confined to minutes, Abbott’s took place over many days. The difference in elapsed time was probably caused by geographic realities, as Vijay could see by the GPS tracking of the VT2. Marianne’s VT2 had been tracked from her home in Chicago to the trailer in London, and then back again. Mildred Pierce had experienced all of her emotional changes within a single mile.
The GPS functionality proved that Marianne had been at the crime scene. It also made Vijay realize the full power of a system that could detect emotions as well as pinpoint where the person was. At least, in theory, law enforcement could have known about Marianne’s potential to kill, and they could have intercepted her at any point along the way from Chicago to London.
***
CHAPTER 9 – MEET MILES
Pasadena, California. There was one particular anomaly that Vijay couldn’t let go of, and that was a VT2 user in the earlier beta test who received his Final Notice but survived. The VT2 team had learned that the user had contracted rabies, but the disease seemed to reverse itself, and the Notice was automatically rescinded. Vijay had given in to his inquisitive nature to make a side trip to Pasadena, during his, Jennifer and Karima’s visit with Jennifer’s parents’ in Mountain View. He wanted to meet the rabies survivor, Vince Fuller, and – for an altogether different reason – his wife, Trudi.
An attractive woman of a “certain age” with auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and an infectious smile answered the door of a comfortable-looking home in Pasadena’s Highlands area.
“Trudi?” Vijay asked.
“Yes, and you must be Vijay.”
“And I’m Vince,” interjected a fit-looking older man as he came around the door. Vince had been excited about meeting the man who invented the watch. As they welcomed him in, Vijay almost tripped over their dog, who looked like a fair-sized dog when viewed from above but stood only about four to five inches from the ground on impossibly short legs. The dog looked way up at the very tall Vijay and appeared to be smiling, as confirmed by his little stub of a tail wagging to and fro.
Vince said, or rather announced, “Vijay, meet Miles.”
Vijay squatted down comfortably and scratched Miles’ head between his large pointy ears. “What kind of dog are you, Mr. Miles?”
Trudi answered for Miles, in her own voice, “He’s a Pembroke Welsh Corgi. And believe it or not, he was bred for herding sheep, although he’s had to make do with herding us around for most of his life.”
Vijay had seen Queen Elizabeth of the UK on TV with short-legged dogs like this but didn’t know what they were called. “Ahh. I’ve seen little guys like you with the Queen.” Miles seemed to like that, and his tail wagged even faster.
“Please come in,” Trudi exhorted as she led Vijay inside, Miles at his heels. When Vijay was comfortably seated, Miles came over and rested his chin on Vijay’s shoe, earning him another head scratch from the long-armed visitor, who hardly needed to lean over to reach the stretched-out corgi.
Over teas and a coffee for Vince, the three humans launched into an animated conversation ranging from Vijay’s questions about Vince’s bout with rabies to the Fullers’ interest in Vijay’s heritage and India in general.
Vince explained his ordeal with rabies, and he credited his VT2 for saving his life. Without the Final Notice warning, he wouldn’t have gotten the treatment in time.
The Fullers were fascinated by Vijay’s story about his life in India and how he matter-of-factly described his family as living in a slum. His literal rags to riches story was impressive and heart-warming. Vince’s management consultant side came forth when Vijay described the VT2’s manufacturing process under his brother’s management in India.
Vijay expressed his appreciation of Trudi’s popular song, “Crazy Eddie Got A Gun,” which had been adopted by several progressive organizations promoting better gun control. That segued into some of the things that he and Jennifer had been doing with their foundation in support of gun safety and control, particularly concerning domestic violence.
Vijay asked if there was anything specific that sparked the idea for the song, and Trudi surprised him by explaining that she had attended the now-infamous NRA event where a number of people were killed. He tried to get into more detail about her experience, but she seemed to shut down and said she’d rather not talk about it.
As Vijay awkwardly shifted his attention to Vince, he noticed that Vince wasn’t wearing his VT2 and asked about it.
“I decided that I didn’t really want to know,” explained Vince, with a sheepish grin. “Getting one Final Notice was enough, even though it saved me.”
Trudi held her arm up and shook her sleeve down, revealing a VT2. “So, I’m wearing it now; not for the Final Notice – I think I’m with Vince on that – but I’ve recently finished treatment for cancer, and the new improvements you’ve made with detailed blood analysis have helped save me time. I’ve shared the reporting aspect with my doctor, so I don’t have to go in, and she’s told me what to look for to spot any problems. It’s pretty impressive that I can load updates to my watch while it’s charging.
Glancing down at his own VT2, Vijay was shocked when he noticed that two hours had already slipped by, so he didn’t mention that Tesla could add horsepower or improved fuel consumption via internet downloads, a feat he thought was much more impressive. He needed to catch his flight back to San Jose.
It had been an enjoyable time, and as he reluctantly rose and gave Miles another head scratch, he realized how warm and genuine Vince and Trudi were, with Miles being the icing on the cake. They exchanged goodbyes and unanimously agreed it would be nice to stay in touch, and the Fullers hoped that next time they could meet Jennifer and Karima, as well.
***
Mountain View, California. Jennifer met Vijay at the San Jose Airport after his hour and fifteen-minute flight from Bob Hope Airport in Burbank. Nicole and Bill Andrews, Jennifer’s parents, were delighted to be on their own with Karima. Vijay asked if she was worried that her parents could irreversibly spoil Karima in the hour that she was away? She wasn’t worried but chuckled that they would certainly do their best.
Vijay told her about his visit with Vince and Trudi, and especially about their dog, Miles. He was obviously taken with him. He related Vince’s explanation of his bout with rabies and that Vince had credited the VT2 with saving his life, and that Trudi was using the watch now to help monitor her post-cancer condition.
He told her, too, that he’d asked about the genesis of Trudi’s song, “Crazy Eddie Got a Gun.” Vijay smiled and said, “I was surprised by her answer. She had attended that NRA session in D.C., where the top NRA guy was killed. Others, too. But when I asked for more details, she refused to talk about it. She just shut down.”
“Hmm,” she muttered as she pulled into the Andrews’ driveway.
Her “Hmm,” alerted Vijay to the fact that Jennifer hadn’t said a word since leaving the airport. He looked at her and sensed that something was wrong. “What’s wrong, Jen?”
“Nothing.”
And then he knew that something was wrong, and he put his hand on her shoulder as she parked and turned off the car. “Tell me.”
“It’s really nothing. It’s stupid.”
“What’s stupid?”
Jennifer sniffled. “Ever since Kari was born, I’ve been trying to get back into shape.”
Vijay interrupted. “You’re in great shape! What are you talking about?”
“I told you it’s stupid. I tried to wear some of my old jeans that I’d left here, but I couldn’t get into them.”
Vijay tried to humor her. “Maybe your mom washed them, and they shrank.”
“You know that’s not what happened.”
“OK, maybe not, but you look amazing, and I love you.” He undid his seat belt, leaned over, and kissed her.
She smiled, sniffled again and wiped the ripening tears from the corners of her eyes. “I love you, too, Vijay.” Then she took a deep breath and said, with a smile, “Let’s go see if Karima has survived!”
Vijay had an uneasy relationship with Jennifer’s parents. Her father, Bill, had worked in financial services for almost fifty years and was retired now. Vijay could never get past the first time they’d met; there was no mistaking the disappointment on Bill’s face as he took in his daughter’s dark-skinned fiancé. Possibly even worse was that Bill smoked, and whenever he needed a cigarette, he’d ask Vijay to come outside with him. Vijay was uneasy saying “No,” so he found himself outdoors, continually adjusting his position to be upwind of the smell.
Nicole was a very well-connected interior designer, mostly retired, except for a unique client now and then. She was always nicely dressed, and it seemed as though she was always drinking. As Nicole’s drinking progressed, her voice got louder, and she grew more affectionate. Fortunately, she was much shorter than Vijay and needed his cooperation to plant a kiss.
Jennifer watched Vijay’s efforts to get along with her parents with some embarrassment, humor, and a great deal of appreciation for his ability to carry it off.
Both Nicole and Bill had been horrified by the attack on their daughter, and they were very proud of how she handled it. It had become a favorite story of Bill’s, and as he retold it over and over to his friends, the description of the damage Jennifer inflicted grew in severity. Still, they were very concerned about Jennifer’s and Karima’s safety. Vijay and Jennifer did their best to assure them, but their normal parental fears were not easily mollified.
The two couples had been discussing the White House attack on California’s agreement
with car manufacturers, which led to a more general discussion about the divisiveness in politics across the country. Through his connection with Zoe, Vijay was a witness to how deadly that divisiveness could be, both in a political sense as well as the rising tally of hate crimes, especially against people of color. He was looking forward to voting in a U.S. presidential election for the first time, now that he was a full U.S. citizen, and he asked Bill and Nicole for their views on the upcoming elections.
Bill took the lead and launched into a much too detailed description of the current situation and how the country came to be where it was. He had vastly overestimated Vijay’s fundamental understanding of the process, prompting Vijay to expose his political naivety. “What would you say are the fundamental differences between the Democrats and Republicans?”
