The Double
Page 1
The Double
by Susan Gregersen
Copyright November 2012
All rights reserved
Dedicated to Pam, who was the inspiration for this book, as well as being a good friend and encourager.
Pam not only manages her household, which includes six kids and a huge garden, but rises early every morning to update the day's free kindle downloads for all of us on pamspriderecommendations.blogspot.com.
Thank you, to my husband, Steven, for his help and encouragement. Steven helps with editing and makes all my book covers, as well as providing ideas and input for my books!
Chapter 1
Request
The three black cars drove with their bumpers almost touching. Cornfields lined the road, with stalks taller than the cars. It was like driving through a maze.
Occasionally the fields ended and there would be a quick glimpse of a house surrounded by trees and a large, grassy yard, then more corn. Some of the heads in the cars would turn for that brief moment to look, then face forward again.
“Here it is,” said one of the men in the first car. He had been furrowing his brow at the GPS and glancing up from time to time.
Without a word, or even an acknowledgment, the driver turned the car onto a gravel driveway. The other cars followed, bumpers still almost touching. The first car stopped as soon as it was on the driveway and the other two continued toward a house sitting among trees.
A dog ran out to meet them. It did what dogs do…it barked nonstop until a boy about 10 years old stepped out on the porch and yelled for the dog to be quiet. A girl a few years younger came out and stood next to him.
“Who are they?” she whispered. The boy shook his head and shrugged. They watched two men get out of each car. The men from the second one stayed near their car, but the first two men walked toward the porch.
“Is this the Whitner house?” asked one of the men, politely.
“Who’s asking?” said a teenage boy who had appeared from the side yard and stood near the corner of the house.
“Son, we’re here to see your Mom. Is she here?” He understood their reticence. It was probably scary to have strange men come into the yard and ask questions, especially about their Mom.
The girl suddenly ran off the porch and around the side of the house, past the boy who stood on the grass. The men looked at each other through their sunglasses and followed her.
Striking a ninja-type stance the teenage boy said, “Stop right there. You can’t have my Mom!”
The men paused, then walked around the boy. He pivoted, never changing his stance, but was helpless to stop them. The younger boy walked up to him and said, “Mom’s tough. She’ll be fine. Come on,” and they turned and ran after the men.
The girl was yelling something as she ran toward the garden, and a woman stood up with a handful of green beans. Next to her was a small girl, little more than a toddler. The woman reached down and took the small girl’s hand just as the other girl reached her and threw her arms around her.
“Ma’am, we’re just here to talk to you. You’re Kay Whitner?” asked the one who had done all the talking so far.
Kay nodded her head warily and stared at him without speaking. The two girls clung to her and began to cry. She patted them and murmured a few comforting words.
“What is this about? I haven’t done anything, and I know my husband is okay because I can see him from here, on the tractor over there,” she pointed. “You don’t look like you’re from a church or selling something…” Her words dwindled to a stop. Then she looked at him angrily. “And you’re scaring my children!”
“No one is in any trouble and no one is hurt or,” he coughed, “dead. We have a request to make of you from the United States government.”
Kay’s eyebrows shot up. A third boy had joined the other two and leaned on the clothesline pole. The boys looked at each other with excitement and curiosity.
“A request?” Kay asked skeptically. Her mind raced but nothing filled in the blanks.
“Could we talk with you alone?” he asked, glancing at the three boys nearby and the two girls standing with their mother.
Kay looked at her children. She wished her husband would glance over from the field and see the men, and come to see what was going on. Finally she said, “All right. Girls, go with your brothers. Go in the house, and I don’t want to see any of you peeking from around the house or the door!”
She nudged the girls forward and they walked to their brothers. Both girls looked back at her mournfully as their brothers led them away.
“What is this about?” Kay asked with narrowed eyes.
“I’ll get right to the point. Computer facial recognition software has identified you as a match for the wife of the president of the United States,” he began.
“WHAT???” she said, stunned. “What facial recognition software? How? Where? I don’t go anywhere except the grocery store and the bank!”
“It’s everywhere, ma’am. The bank, the grocery stores, even the street corners and stop lights. It’s accessed by several government agencies. For example, the FBI randomly scans footage from around the country, looking for wanted criminals or terrorists. The Secret Service uses it to find doubles.”
“Doubles? Me? Well, at least you don’t think I’m one of your criminals!” she said with a shaky laugh.
“Ma’am, the government needs your help. We hire doubles that look like important politicians or their wives, to give them a break from the heavy load of social commitments. They’re trained to act and speak like
the person they’re impersonating. It’s usually a one-day event, such as a dinner or a luncheon. Nothing that involves giving a speech or anything like that.”
“So…me. The president’s wife?” Kay said in disbelief. “She’s at least 20 years older than me. I know farming is a hard life, but… twenty years older?”
“Our make-up artists are very talented. Your facial bone structure and shape are a perfect match. Even your height and weight is very close to the First Lady’s, ” said the second man, speaking for the first time. “You won’t even know yourself when they’re done!”
“How do you know my height and weight?” Kay asked, perturbed.
“Motor Vehicle Department. Your driver’s license,” he said.
The first man took over before Kay could express her indignation. “You’ll be trained and coached in the first lady’s mannerisms and speech. You’ll learn to walk, sit and stand like she does, and how to attend to the courtesies required of you at each event.”
“Come on! This has to be a joke. Who do I know that could afford to hire men in suits and sunglasses to play this kind of prank on me?” she mused.
The men looked at each other. Displaying a mild sense of humor the second man said, “And don’t forget the other four men out front and the 3 black cars with tinted windows!” Kay’s jaw dropped as she stared at him.
His partner nudged him reprovingly, then said, “It’s no joke. We’re very serious. Most one-day events pay $10,000, and we pick you up, fly you to the location, then have you home and in your own bed before midnight.”
“$10,000? Taxpayer money, right? So that the first lady and other important people can get out of doing something they don’t want to?” she demanded.
“Um…yes,” he said sheepishly. “We’d like your decision very soon, ma’am. We need to do a preliminary makeover to make sure you will dress up like the first lady. You know… body shape and so forth. Then you’ll be trained to act like the First Lady. It usually takes three to seven days.”
“They’ve been in office for almost a year. How come you’re just now hiring a double for her?” she asked.
Again the two men looked at each other. Finally
the first man cleared his throat and said, “We had one. She became…ill.”
“Yes, ill. We need to replace her as soon as possible,” the other one said.
Kay thought about that for a moment. She could imagine the stress of impersonating someone like the President’s wife would indeed make a person ill after a while. Could she do it, she wondered. “How long do I have to decide?”
“We’ll come back soon to get your answer,” he said.
“When?” she asked.
“When you see us,” he replied. “Do not discuss this with anyone except your husband.”
They turned and walked back around the house. Kay stood there for a second, then hurried after them. She stood in the yard near the front porch and watched as the two cars turned and headed back out the driveway, and the third one backed out and followed them down the road.
They had no sooner disappeared behind the corn stalks when a pick-up truck turned into the driveway and left dust in the air in it’s haste. It slammed to a stop in front of the house and a woman jumped out. She ran toward Kay.
“Kay! What was the FBI doing here?” asked the excited woman.
“Mom, it wasn’t the FBI!” Kay sighed.
“Mom, phone. It’s Grandma. I mean, it’s the other grandma,” the 10-year old boy said as he came out on the porch. He handed the cordless phone over the porch rail to his mother.
“Hello?” Kay said wearily into the phone. “No, it wasn’t the FBI. How’d you hear about it? No! No, we’re not in any trouble. What? No, we’re not growing anything in the basement! My gosh! They were government men but they had the wrong place!”
Her mom danced around in front of her, trying to get close to the phone and listen. Kay finally handed the phone back to her son. “Well, you heard it. They had the wrong place.”
“I think there’s something you’re not telling me,” the woman said. “You look worried or upset. See, right there around your eyes.”
“Yes, of course I’m upset. A bunch of men in black suits and sunglasses appear in my yard and ask questions… well, heck yes, I’m upset. They scared the kids half to death!” Kay climbed the stairs and sat on the porch swing. Her mother followed, watching her closely.
“What kind of questions?” she jabbed.
“I don’t know. None that I could answer,” Kay said. She sat up straight. “You know what’s funny? They were so non-descript that I couldn’t even describe them to you right now! And I never saw their eyes. They had those dark mirrored sunglasses on the whole time.”
“Maybe they weren’t even human! Maybe they’re some kind of artificial intelligence robots!” said one of the boys.
Kay laughed and shook her head. “Nothing would surprise me any more!” To herself she thought ‘oh, how true that is!’
Her mother left after a short while and Kay went inside to start dinner. She sent the kids out to bring in the pails of green beans she had picked and got them started snapping them. She was going to pack them in jars and run them through the canner after dinner.
A woman’s work was never done, but a farm wife’s workload stayed heaped up high enough to crush lesser women. Kay sighed and stirred the gravy she was making. She glanced at the clock. Her husband would be coming in any minute.
The screen door opened just as she finished that thought, and her husband walked into the room. He lit up with a big smile, gave Kay a hug, and let the kids throw themselves at him.
“Daddy, the FBI was here today!” the little girls said. He shot a look at Kay. She shook her head.
Kay sighed. “They weren’t FBI! It was some government men and they were looking for someone else,” Kay said. She looked sternly at the kids. There was a lot of poking and pulling and shuffling, but the kids didn’t say any more.
A moment later their oldest son, Danny, came in the same door. He was 17 and worked for a neighbor during the summer when there was no school. Both men headed to wash their hands and faces.
When they were seated at the big, round wooden table in the kitchen her husband thanked the Lord for their blessings, then dishes were passed around. For a while the only sound was the light clank of serving spoons and forks as everyone filled their plates.
“The harvest is going to be a bit below normal, thanks to the dry summer, but I believe we’ll get by,” her husband said as he took his first bite of dinner. He gave a sigh of satisfaction and Kay smiled at him.
They could lose a whole crop and he would reassure them with “we’ll be all right”. She loved him for his optimism. He worked hard and never complained about how weary he was. She caught him sometimes, rubbing his back or neck, and lately his knees, too.
She wasn’t as old as the President’s wife but she and her husband weren’t getting any younger, that’s for sure. He’d just hit forty and her turn was fast approaching. Some days she felt twenty years older.
With mortification she realized she had probably offended the First Lady with her comment about not looking as old as the First Lady. She stopped chewing for a moment and turned red.
“Mom! What’s wrong? You look funny!” asked her 7-year old daughter. Kay coughed and swallowed, then reached for her water.
“Nothing, honey, I just almost swallowed the wrong way. I’m fine!” Kay said. She tried to turn her thoughts away from the visit from the men. Her eyes wandered to the worn linoleum on the floor. How she’d love to replace it.
With the money from being a ‘double’ she could, she realized. ‘Stop it!’ she told herself. ‘Don’t even go there!’ Her wish list was incredibly long. They did without so much, and everyone was pretty good natured about it. She tried to fill their lives with love and happiness and laughter, hoping the lack of money and worn-out house would stay in the background.
After dinner the boys cleared the table and started washing the dishes. The girls were trying to sweep the floor, 7-year old with the broom and 3-year old following her with the dust pan, wanting each piece of dirt as her sister swept it.
“Ma, how about a walk with the old man?” Kay’s husband asked. He reached toward her hand.
Kay tossed her apron on the shelf by the door and took his hand. “We’ll be back soon. Be good to each other!” she admonished.
“Are you gonna tell Daddy about the FBI now?” asked her 10-year old son, Brandon, as they went out the door. She tapped him lightly on the head with one finger, but didn’t speak. He shrugged and closed the door behind them.
They walked out onto the lane that passed the house. The corn was dry and mostly yellow in the fields, and the leaves rustled like paper in the breeze. He swung her hand as they walked.
“What was the business those government fellows wanted, Kay?” he asked when they were far enough from the house not to be heard by curious little ears. She told him about visit and the offer that had been made to her.
He didn’t seem to know what to say. They came to a stop in the road and just looked at each other. After a while he whistled and said, “Wow! It’s like something out of a movie! I never thought the government really did that!”
“Yeah! I know!” she laughed, embarrassed. “Can you imagine? ME, posing as the President’s wife? I’d be so far out of my league!”
“Well, maybe. But you’ve always liked acting. You might do good at it!” he said. “I don’t see the resemblance but you’re a mighty fine sight to look at!”
“They said their facial recognition software matched my cheekbones and stuff to hers,” Kay explained. “Gosh! Can you imagine that? I don’t even go to a city and the government finds me among millions of other people! You know, that’s kind of scary!”
“Yes, it is,” her husband said soberly. “I think I’ll start wearing sunglasses and a hat, and maybe a fake beard when I go to town!”
“Why? Maybe they’ll match you to the president, or the pope or whoever!” she teased.
“Well, even if they did, they’d never be able to break me of the way I talk. I’d probably get him in trouble. You know�
�offend some foreign dignitary or something. Cause a war!” he laughed.
“I don’t know what I should do. We could use the money, but what about the kids? And what do we tell people about why I’m gone?” she asked. “I’m not sure I could pull it off, acting like that under such intense public scrutiny!”
“Well, if you can say such fancy sentences as ‘intense public scrutiny’, you can probably fool people into thinking you’re the First Lady!” he said. They started walking back toward their driveway. “It’s up to you. You have my support if you want to give it a try.”
That night Kay tossed and turned in her sleep. She was dreaming over and over that she was acting as the First Lady and doing dumb things, like tripping over someone and spilling food on them, or other such bumbling.