The Double

by Susan Gregersen

  The aide turned and left the room ahead of him. When the door closed behind him, the president that had stood turned back and handed the paper to the other one. “Here, Henry. I guess I still have to let you tend to the real stuff.”

  The other one rose, took the paper, and left the room. Madeline and Kay started in surprise. They had both been fooled.

  Kay stood and turned to Madeline. “Kay, it’s been lovely meeting you. I hope you’ve enjoyed learning how to be me. If you have any questions, please let me know.”

  Madeline took up the game right away. “Thank you, Madeline. I think I’m ready. It’s been great getting to know you, and to be you.”

  Kay walked toward the door as if she was about to leave.

  “Not so fast, Kay! You didn’t fool me!” said Agent Jones. “I know you’re not really Madeline.”

  Kay faltered. She stopped and looked uncertainly at him, then at Madeline. The real Madeline stood and looked at Kay.

  “He didn’t really know. He was testing you. Never let anyone undermine your confidence. You have to be so convincing that even you believe you are me,” she said.

  Kay marched over and stood in front of Agent Jones. He stared stonily back into her eyes, then pulled out his sunglasses and put them on his face. Kay might as well be staring at a wall then.

  She took hold of his tie and pulled it toward her and said, “Watch it, Jack!” Even with the sunglasses on she could see the shock on his face as she called him by his first name.

  He recovered quickly and said, “Jack who?” Kay just smiled and walked back to the table.

  “If you children are done playing, I believe we have a plane to catch!” said Agent Smith.

  “You mean I’m going home?” Kay asked. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Does that mean I’m ready, or that I’ve failed altogether and you’re sending me home?” She was flustered.

  “You’re ready. For now. Before each assignment you’ll be given specialized tutoring.” He opened the door and stood waiting.

  Kay said good-bye to the real Madeline, then hurried to the door. Agent Jones followed and pulled the door shut behind them.

  Dressed in her own clothes again, Kay climbed into the black car for the ride to the airport. She had the mirrored sunglasses on and was giving both agents a bit of the brush-off. They ignored her.

  Once the jet was in the air Agent Jones pulled out a deck of cards. “Rematch?” he asked.

  “You like losing?” Kay asked saucily.

  “I thought you were the mother of six kids, not one of the six kids!” Agent Jones retorted.

  “Children! Behave!” Agent Smith said. “Let’s play something three can play. Toss those. How about ‘Uno’?”

  “Ewwww, Uno?” said Agent Jones.

  “Yeah, ewwww. Bring those cards back, Jack. Let’s play poker!” Kay said.

  “Quit calling him Jack,” warned Agent Jones.

  “Okay, Fred,” she said.

  Chapter 3

  The first Assignment

  Kay stirred the pungently-scented mess in the kettle on her stove while mentally calculating how many jars, and which size, she was going to need for canning the salsa she was making. The house smelled wonderful. She wondered if she had time to make homemade tortilla chips so they could sample the salsa.

  “Mom! Mom! The guys with the sunglasses are back!” called Brandon as he came in the front screen door, letting it slam behind him.

  ‘Back?’ thought Kay in shock. ‘No phone call or anything… just back?’ She turned the heat down and rested the wooden spoon against the side of the kettle. With a sigh, she wiped her hands on the apron and headed to the front door.

  The old Dodge pick-up truck was just stopping in front of the porch. Two faces with mirrored sunglasses stared at her through the windshield. She stared back. ‘No. You show up unannounced, you can get out of the truck and come to me!’ she muttered to herself.

  After what seemed to be a brief consultation they got out of the truck. Walking around the front of it they leaned against the hood and folded their arms.

  “Go back in the house!” Kay told the kids, gently but firmly. They reluctantly went back in. She walked down the steps and across the yard. “You didn’t call this time.”

  “Sorry about that. This came up quickly. Madeline is sick. We need you to attend a presentation at an art gallery this evening, and a luncheon tomorrow,” Agent Smith said.

  “Why can’t the government just say ‘hey, Madeline is sick’ and get her out of those things?” Kay asked. “Isn’t she allowed to be fallable?”

  “In the interest of not offending the foreign dignitaries that have traveled halfway around the world to attend these events with the First Lady, we prefer to simply have you fill in for her and avoid such a thing,” Agent Smith supplied.

  Kay looked from one to the other. “Simply? What makes you think it’s so simple for me to drop what I’m doing and trot off to cultural and social events at your whim!”

  “What could be more important than helping your country?” asked Agent Jones.

  “Canning the huge kettle of salsa that is simmering on my stove as we speak, and you better hope it isn’t scorching!” Kay said scathingly.

  “For what we’re paying you, couldn’t you just buy Salsa?” asked Agent Smith.

  “Or pay someone to can it for you?” Agent Jones suggested.

  Kay stared at them. Suddenly she smiled. She pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. Holding it to her head, her eyes never leaving them, she said into the phone, “Mom? I’ll pay you $100 if you’ll come over and run my salsa through the canner tonight.”

  Minutes later Dan and the kids were waving good-bye to her from the front porch while Kay rode away with the agents.

  “$100?” Agent Jones said, shaking his head. “Cheapskate!”

  “Hey! If I offered her more she’d be suspicious. How would I explain it if I told her I’d pay her a thousand dollars if she canned my salsa for me?” Kay said, defending herself.

  “Still… $100.” Agent Jones clucked.

  “My grandmother canned. I didn’t know anyone still did,” said Agent Smith.

  Kay looked at him and thought she detected a bit of sadness, or perhaps just sentiment. It was the first peek she’d ever had into the personal life of either agent. “Some of us do,” she said softly.

  The flight this time wasn’t fun and games. As soon as they were airborne they slapped a folder in front of Kay.

  “How good are you at matching names and faces?” Agent Smith asked.

  “Terrible,” Kay admitted. “I hardly recognize my own family in a crowd. Why?”

  “Because you only have one hour to match names and bios with these faces,” he replied.

  “What?” Kay howled. “I can’t do that!”

  “Better give it your best try. These are people you’re about to meet, and they think you already know them!” he told her.

  “Fortunately for you, none of them know her very well. However, most of them will expect her to at least remember who they are,” added Agent Jones.

  “This is a small event, so there aren’t as many people you need to memorize,” Agent Smith said. He flipped the book open. “See how it’s laid out? There are four photos of the person. One is a posed ‘still’, and the other three are candid shots from other events. The idea is to let you see them at different angles to make it easier to recognize them.”

  He moved his hand down below the pictures and pointed. “Here’s their basic information. It’s not all that important… age, birthday, height, weight. The important stuff is under it. It’s the little details they’ll assume you know. Madeline wrote that part herself, since… well, she would know.”

  Kay read the info on the first person. It was actually quite interesting. She slowly worked her way through the book, then went through it a second time. Then Agent Smith took the book away. He tossed a loose picture on the lap tray, face down.

  “Turn i
t over,” he instructed. She turned it face up, and he continued. “Who is that?”

  Kay looked at the face. She noticed the ears on the woman’s head. They were slightly heart-shaped, which she had used to make a recognition connection, and she said “Lisa Hartford.”

  Agent Smith was surprised but didn’t snow it. “And you know her how?”

  “She was a friend of my mother’s. When I was a child she would visit with her daughter, who was several years younger than me but we still played together. Her daughter was killed in a plane crash in 1987,” Kay recited.

  “Very good!” he complimented her. “This one?” He slapped another picture on the tray.

  “Avery Johnson,” Kay said. “He served in the military with my brother, and they came to our house on leave once. He asked me out to dinner and pestered me endlessly for another date, and I didn’t want to go out with him any more. He still flirts sometimes, but backed off after I married Henry.”

  “How did you memorize all that so quickly?’ asked Agent Jones. “I thought you were bad about matching faces and names.”

  “You didn’t ask how good my memory is about things I’ve read. It’s pretty decent,” Kay said proudly. “Plus, I used association. See? This woman’s ears are heart-shaped. Her last name is Hartford. I just had to remember what information went with Hartford.”

  “What about this guy? What association did you see in him?” Agent Smith asked, pointing at Avery Johnson’s picture.

  “Oh, he looks like he thinks he’s big and important, so I figured he’s impressed with his own ‘Johnson’…” Kay’s voice dwindled in embarassment. The two agents guffawed and bent over laughing.

  The plane landed and a black car whisked them to the make-up building, where Kay was recreated into Madeline, and once again whisked away in a black car. When the two agents walked up the stairs with her at the Art Museum she looked at them questioningly.

  “The First Lady is always shadowed by the Secret Service,” Agent Smith whispered discreetly. Kay nodded.

  She was ushered into the reception room by faceless attendants. A waitor glided up to her and held the tray at a respectful distance and waited for her to either select something or dismiss him.

  For a moment her mind went blank, then she remembered what Madeline had said. “Have you any seltzer water?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I shall return immediately with it,” he said reverently, then glided away. A moment later he was back, a lone glass in the middle of a round, brown tray.

  Kay thanked him, took glass, and turned away. She walked further into the room and spotted Allison Gentry, another of the faces from the folder.

  “Allison! How was France? Did Carlos get back in time to go with you?” Kay asked as she lightly brushed the woman’s elbow with her hand.

  The woman turned and looked at Kay. “Oh, Madeline, France was wonderful this time of year! I bought 7 new coats! Thanks for letting me in on that wonderful secret about off-season shopping!” she gushed. “No, Carlos didn’t go with me, but I talked my neice into going along. We had quite a wonderful time!”

  Kay remembered Andrea telling her that each of these women had their special word. With Allison it was “wonderful”. Everything would be wonderful when this woman talked.

  As Andrea transformed Kay into Madeline earlier this afternoon she filled her in on these little nuances. Apparently Madeline’s word was “lovely”. Everything was lovely. It’s a lovely day, Isn’t that a lovely sweater, Oh that would be so lovely, How lovely of you to come.

  Someone lightly touched her elbow and she turned. Another woman was standing there, and Kay panicked trying to remember who she was. It just wasn’t coming to her. Agent Smith stepped forward.

  “Mrs. Oleander, I don’t know if you remember me,” he began, “but your son and I were on the rowing team together at Harvard. How is William these days?”

  Kay shot him a grateful look. He had triggered her memory and gotten her over the awkward moment. Mrs. Oleander looked annoyed that a mere Secret Service agent would address her in public. Agent Smith had stepped over the line for her, Kay realized.

  “He’s doing fantastic, as always. Excuse me!” she huffed, turning her back to him and dragging Kay long by the elbow. “Can you believe how forward these agents are becoming?” she bristled in Kay’s ear.

  “Oh, I think it’s lovely that he was thoughtful enough to ask after your son! What a lovely young man William must be for an agent to have fond memories of their college years together,” Kay said demurely.

  The other woman was taken aback for a moment, then said uncertainly, “yes. Yes, I suppose.” After a moment she wandered off, and Agent Smith returned Kay’s grateful look. She gave a barely imperceptible nod of her head and went in search of others to test her memory on.

  After a period of socializing and mingling everyone drifted toward their seats. Kay remember where they told her she was expected to sit, and she went there and sat down. Third seat from the left, front row.

  She was comforted to see Agents Smith and Jones standing discreetly along the wall nearby. Mirrored sunglasses still on their faces, of course. More agents lined up next to them and across the room. She assumed they were all here with other important people.

  Someone sat on the seat to her right. She turned and saw the wife of the Vice-President. Or, she wondered, was it a double? She had been instructed to never ask, never hint about it, and never indicate that she was aware doubles were ever used. She was to maintain that she was, indeed, Madeline, at all costs.

  During the presentation Kay had a hard time maintaining an interested look on her face. Coming from a life where people actually worked hard to sustain life, she thought a lot of the artsy stuff was a waste of time and resources. She wondered how Madeline really felt about it. No matter. She was told to look interested at least, if not outright fascinated.

  Afterward there was a brief time of refreshments and farewells, then she was whisked to a private room by the agents.

  “Okay, you’re about to run the gauntlet. The media will be thick out there. Keep walking, but don’t rush. Look around and smile, but don’t make eye contact, and don’t answer their questions, no matter how nice they are, or how pushy they are,” Agent Smith instructed.

  “Be careful of the ones they ask for shock value,” cautioned Agent Jones. “Those are the ones that get your picture on the front page!”

  Kay looked back and forth between them. “Do I have to do this?” she asked wearily. Right now she wouldn’t trade places with the First Lady for anything… but then, she had already traded places with her by signing a contract to be her double.

  “We’ll be right there with you, one on each side, escorting you to the car. We can run a lot of the interference for you. Just move along with us,” Agent Smith said.

  “Okay. Let’s do it,” she said, standing up and pulling her jacket together.

  They left the private room and headed for the main entrance. As they stepped outside flashbulbs popped all around them. Questions were shouted from both sides and Kay looked blindly around, trying not to appear wild and crazy. She forced a half-smile to her lips and let the agents move her through the crowd.

  Before she realized it they were pushing her head down and ensconcing her on the seat of the car, and the doors closed. Blissful silence filled the car, and Kay slumped against the back of the seat. The car moved through the crowd, which separated to let the car leave.

  Another round of flashes went off behind them. Kay turned her head and watched as yet another woman was helped from the building to a car amidst the crowd of reporters. She couldn’t live that way, she thought.

  “Kay? How are you doing? Do you need anything? Food? Something to drink?” Agent Jones asked in concern.

  “I could use a hamburger,” Agent Smith said. “Those horror-derves they serve at these things wouldn’t fill a parakeet.”

  “Shall I ask the driver to swing through McDonald’s?” asked Agent Jo
nes.

  “You guys really eat at McDonald’s?” asked Kay.

  “Of course! Doesn’t everyone?” said Agent Smith.

  “Well, sometimes we go to Little Caesar’s for a ready-to-go pepperoni pizza!” pointed out Agent Jones.

  “Remember that time we went to Taco Bell? We should do that again some time,” said Agent Smith. Both started laughing.

  “What’s funny? What happened at Taco Bell?” Kay asked.

  “They kept reassuring us that all their employees were legal!” Agent Jones choked out between laughs.

  “Great!” groaned Kay as she sat back between them. “Even the Secret Service men have brains that never made it out of Junior High!”