by Matthew Fish
“Taken your pill…”
I go to the drawer and pull out the bottle and retrieve one of the white round pills. I hand it to Cherie, who attempts to hand me back something in her other hand; only it is empty. I smile and she returns the same in kind. I pour some water into a glass and hand it to her. I pretend to place the pill on my tongue and drink from a non-existent glass. She does the same and just like that, she has taken her Calm for the day. I take the glass from her and put it in the sink. I take a moment to pause at the window again. She sits beside me and looks out. It is a rather simple, but nice view—there is still great beauty to be found in a simple thing.
“I like the tree,” Cherie says, finally breaking out of her cycle. “I love the colors, all the different greens. I never knew there were so many different ways to be green.”
“It is a pretty view,” I say as I turn away. “Are you ready now?”
Cherie nods and follows me out the door. I pull my C-Shapes badge from my chest pocket and place it around my neck. I open the door for her and look around as a woman passing by on the other edge of the street gives us a dirty look, but keeps walking. I climb into the car.
“I used to have a nice car like this,” Cherie says. “I used to have a boat too… a big one.”
I nod silently. I take all this as memory issues—from her profile she was a poor artist. She was definitely a talented artist, but apparently not one with enough money to afford a nice car or a boat, unfortunately. Perhaps if she had a boat she could sail her way to Paris and actually be happy.
“Where do you normally go grocery shopping?”
“When I’m in Paris, I like to walk to the market—there’s no other place like it.”
“How about when we’re just in boring old Chicago…?”
“You probably know this area better than I do,” Cherie says as she runs her hand along the leather seat. “Anywhere is fine.”
“I used to work at a place not too far from here, stocking the shelves.”
“That sounds nice,” Cherie says as she turns her gaze to blankly stare out the window. “I’d like to see where you worked before.”
After a short drive, we arrive at a small place. I remember spending a few years here before I finally got recruited by C-Shapes, just kind of mindlessly stocking the shelves at night and occasionally covering for sick workers in the daytime. It wasn’t the greatest of jobs… but it kept me busy. Like I’ve said before, I never really had a talent, or higher calling to do anything meaningful. I’ve kind of meandered through life like one of those small creeks you see at parks, the kind with all the many twists and turns… the one that if you follow it—it will eventually lead nowhere. That is how I’ve felt about my life since V-Day… probably even before that day. Well, that’s not completely true, doing this… this makes me feel better.
“Are you alright?”
“Sorry,” I say as I notice I’ve been blankly staring off at the storefront for far too long. One might think we were both a pair of Catatonics hanging out in a car. That would be an odd practical joke to play on someone. “Just brings back memories.”
“Tell me about them later so I can nap?”
I laugh. I don’t know whether I should take this as I am boring, or comforting. Either way, it works for me on some level. I exit the car and Cherie follows close behind me. Almost as if I am some sort of shield for her against the outside world.
I hold the door open behind me so that she can shadow me into the building. I recognize my old boss behind the counter. It has been a while.
“Bobby Saito…” I say as I enter in. “I thought you hated working checkout.”
“Ethan?” The elderly Asian man says as he folds his arms and looks unhappy. “I wouldn’t have to if C-Shapes would stop stealing all of my employees!”
“I look down at my badge and nod. “Sorry about that.”
“It is fine,” Bobby says as he smiles and reaches his hand across the counter. “It’s good to see you doing well.”
“It’s good to see you again.”
Bobby turns to the girl hiding behind me. “Is she one of the…”
I nod in reply. “We’ll be in and out pretty quickly, if that’s alright with you.”
“Yeah…” Bobby says with a heavy sound of hesitation in his voice. “You can handle this right… I mean if… you know.”
“We will be fine,” I assure him.
“You’re trained for this,” He says as he nods and finally concedes. “I trust you, I’m alright with this.”
“Thank you,” I say as I nod and grab a small shopping cart.
“So what do you feel like having,” I ask as I look behind me and see Cherie meekly following behind me, looking around like a terrified squirrel attempting to cross a busy street.
“We don’t need much. Remember we’re leaving for Paris on Sunday,” Cherie whispers as we continue down the aisles.
“How about I just pull the cart behind me and you just toss in whatever you want,” I say as I begin to drag the cart rather than push it.
I hear a few items fall into the cart, and to my surprise—so far they are not French fries, or French bread or French toast. Instead she has put some cans of soup, cereal, and potato chips. We reach the bread aisle and a mother and son who are shopping spot us. The boy, about eleven if I had to guess, points towards Cherie and yells freak and runs to his mother’s side. They give us a look as though we are the scum of the earth and continue onto the next aisle.
“Why did he do that?”
“It’s my badge,” I say as I shake my head and force myself to look about as sad as I actually feel on the inside. “It isn’t very fashionable and you know kids these days… they’re all about fashion. You know, the blue and white badge doesn’t go well with my grey shirt.”
“I thought it looked fine,” Cherie says as she pats me on the back. “Kids are so rude these days.”
When we reach the frozen foods section, she does end up getting French fries. About four bags worth. I begin to wonder what shopping light actually means, or if this is just an impulse purchase. She gets eggs and bread; I surmise it is also for French toast. However she has purchased enough regular food that I will not object.
“You got everything you need?”
Cherie gives the cart a once over and nods. It is full of food, a lot more than just for a few days… I think very little of it as C-Shapes is paying the bill anyway.
“So how has business been?” I ask Bobby as he begins to scan the items and place them into paper bags.
“How has business been?” Cherie repeats from behind me.
“I can’t complain—well I could but you heard enough of it for years,” he says with a laugh. “No, honestly, things have been good. I remarried, just last week, you remember that girl I had that off and on thing with… and although we both lost someone on V-Day, we’re making it work.”
“V… Day. We’re making it work.” Cherie adds.
“That’s good, that’s great even,” I say as I nod.
“Is she—what are they called again…? You don’t really see many like her.”
“Don’t see many like her…”
“A Mirror…” I whisper as I lean in.
“A Mirror,” Cherie whispers as she leans in.
I shake my head at my failed attempt to be sneaky.
“I heard that only like eight percent of all the Unstables ended up as Mirrors.” Bobby says as curiosity overcomes his previous hesitations.
“…ended up as Mirrors,” Cherie says as she looks at the man and nods for no particular reason that I can tell.
“It’s good to meet you miss,” Bobby says as he extends a hand across the counter. “My name is Bobby Saito. Your Sitter used to work for me.”
“Good to meet you miss…” Cherie says as she shakes the man’s hand. “Name is Bobby Saito… used to work for me.”
“Her name is Cherie,” I say as I uncomfortably laugh at the odd exchange. “She’s quite
capable of having a completely normal conversation—she just gets caught up in these loops sometimes. If we stop talking for a while, she’ll kind of reset herself—if that makes any sense.”
“…gets caught up in these loops sometimes—if that makes any sense.”
Bobby nods as he continues to work in silence and bags up the groceries. He carries them and places the bags into my cart. I slide my phone over the scanner on the counter to complete the transaction. When Cherie does not mimic this action, I figure that enough time has passed.
“So yeah,” I say as I turn to Cherie. “This is my old boss.”
“It’s good to meet you Bobby Saito,” Cherie says as she smiles.
“You recall what happens during your loops?” He asks out of genuine curiosity.
“Usually yes,” Cherie says as she pauses for a moment. “Sometimes not… it depends I think. I’m not really sure how I work—or don’t work.”
“So what do you think of your Sitter here, he’s a pretty stand up guy, right?” Bobby says as he jabs me playfully against my work badge.
“He is a great Sitter,” Cherie says as she nods emphatically. “We’re leaving for Paris on Sunday.”
“Is that so?” He asks. “I’m sure you two will have a great time. I’ve never been personally, but I heard it is a wonderful place to visit.”
I’m sure he knows that this is impossible as there is no way anyone travels these days, I don’t even think they allow Unstables to board airplanes… I know they already ban them from buses and movie theaters, even with Sitters. However, I appreciate him humoring the idea.
“We’ll stop back in when we return,” Cherie says as she nods and smiles as we make our way out. I open up the door for Cherie, and after popping open the trunk I turn on the air conditioning. It is far too hot for her to be sitting in the passenger seat in her outfit.
As I am loading the groceries, Bobby runs out from the building and catches me and helps me put in a few of the bags.
“I got it handled,” I say as I smile at the older man.
“I just wanted to say that it was good to see you again,” he adds as he places an arm around me. “I didn’t know they could be like that—the TV makes them all out like they are monsters. I just wanted to thank you for showing me that they all aren’t. Lately it seems like everything is just gloom and doom, end of the world type of stuff. It’s nice to be shown another side.”
“I really appreciate that Bobby,” I say as I give the man a quick hug. “I think we both needed to have some kindness pointed our way… it hasn’t been easy.”
As we begin to head home, I notice a local restaurant that I used to eat at all the time after work—used to love their omelets. I pull into the parking lot and immediately notice a sign that hangs in the window that says ‘no Unstables.’ I do not remember it being there—I wonder if it was always that way and I just hadn’t noticed. I suddenly get an idea. It is not a terribly great one, but for me… it’s a good one.
I remove my badge and take my cell out of my pocket and place them into the glove box. I turn to Cherie and pause for a moment. I know what I am doing is wrong… possibly even illegal and grounds for termination. However, after having such a good day she deserves something more than just… grocery shopping. She deserves something that has some amount of dignity. However, in the back of my mind the idea that if anything goes wrong it will be the end of my career, possibly even my life.
“Can you do me a really big favor?” I ask as I turn to Cherie who is eyeing the Black Skillet Restaurant ahead of us.
“Of course,” Cherie says as she turns to me and looks confused.
“Do you know what a mute is?”
“Someone who cannot talk at all,” Cherie says as she nods.
“Can you pretend to be mute from when we leave the car until we get back into the car?” I ask as I gesture towards the restaurant ahead.
“I think so,” Cherie says as smiles. “Are we being sneaky?”
“We are…”
“I can do it,” Cherie says confidently.
I get out the car as casually as possible. I probably look slightly stupid, but I’m living in the moment. I open the door for Cherie and reach for her hand. We walk hand in hand into the restaurant and we are seated at a window seat in the far back. There are a few people who give us passing glances, but not the glaring looks that we’ve been getting lately.
When the waitress approaches, she if she can get us something to drink.
“I’d just like a coffee…”
“And for you, miss?” The waitress asks.
Cherie makes a gesture like something is wrong with her throat.
“I’m sorry about that, my girlfriend is mute… and I always mean to bring it up but forget. Just point at what you want. Would that be alright?”
“Of course,” the waitress says, as she nods. She turns over Cherie’s menu and points to the drink selection. “What do you want dear?”
Cherie points to a strawberry milkshake.
“Strawberry milkshake…?” The waitress asks.
Cherie gives her a thumbs up sign.
“Got it dear,” the waitress says as she flips open the menu. “Now what would you like to eat?”
Cherie points to a stack of French toast with bacon and some eggs.
I almost face-palm as there is everything we need to make it at home in the car… but I keep my silence. At least she is getting to eat out for once.
“Got it,” the waitress says and turns to me. “…and for you, sir?”
“I’ll have the vegetable omelet with extra cheese and hash browns,” I say as I do not even need to look through the menu. For years it was my after work meal.
“I’ll get that right away for you, shouldn’t be too long—we’re not very busy today.”
“Thank you.”
We eat our meal in silence. However, whenever I look into Cherie’s eyes, they are smiling back at me. I know I have done something wrong. However, it makes me feel better than any of the right things that I’ve been doing. Once we get back into the car she begins to laugh uncontrollably.
“Did you enjoy that?”
“I did, thank you so much,” Cherie says as she reaches over and hugs me tightly.
“Not a word about that though,” I say in a serious tone. “…our secret.”
“Got it,” Cherie says as she continues to laugh and smile happily.
Making sure that no one from indoors can see me; I retrieve my phone from the glove box and slide it back into my pocket. I place my badge back around my neck and pull away. I walk Cherie up to her apartment with my hands full of groceries. She opens up the door and I set them on the table.
“Can you put these away, I’ll get the rest.” I ask, knowing it will be safer if she stays indoors.
Cherie nods once in reply.
I make a few trips until the car is empty. Once back in I help Cherie put away all of the food that we purchased.
“It seems like we bought too much, given that we’re leaving on Sunday,” Cherie admits as she looks at her stocked cabinets and fridge. “I guess we won’t be gone that long though. Last time we were only in Paris for three days because we had to get back to visit your friend.”
“Yeah,” I say as I nod. I would love to tell her the truth. I wonder if it would hurt her more, or help in some way. Would it be the right thing to do? It is one of those impossible questions that I cannot seem to come up with the right answer to.
“What would you like to do now?” I ask as afternoon approaches.
She stretches out her arms almost comically and does her customary yawn.
“It’s naptime then?”
“It’s naptime then.”
I lead her to the couch and she lies down and curls up into a ball. I walk into the bedroom and get her blanket and cover her up.
“About the store…” Cherie says quietly.
“Right…” I say as I remember that she wanted to know about me working ther
e before I became a Sitter. “There isn’t really much to say, unfortunately. I mean… I lost both of my parents on well, that day that everything changed.”
“The day people like me became… different,” Cherie adds softly.
“Yeah,” I reply as I sit down on the carpeted floor and continue. “I lost both of them at the same time. So I was kind of lost. I suppose a lot of people were at the time. So I just did what I could. I worked, at a gas station first. It was a bad time for that kind of thing. People were constantly stealing gas, and we were always getting robbed. It was a very difficult time. So I got out of that pretty quickly. Things are so much better about that now, but back then it was chaos. So anyway, I worked some odd jobs here and there. I spent some time alone… probably a bit too much time alone. I ended up working for Bobby probably three years ago I’d guess. I worked midnights, pretty much always by myself… I mean, sometimes Bobby would stay and talk to me. He lost his wife, so I think that sometimes he just came up with excuses to stay so that he didn’t have to go home and be alone. Anyway, I had applied for the C-Shapes Program and it took a while, but I worked there up until a year before I got accepted. I just couldn’t do it anymore… I wanted to do something different, be around people… not sleep all day anymore. I guess, that’s about it… I’m sorry it’s not more exciting.”
I laugh as I look over and see her fast asleep. I wonder how much of that she was actually awake for. Finding myself of little use, I begin to wander around the house. There is a room that is always shut. Out of curiosity, I open it up. I do not mean to be intrusive or rude. I just often find myself curious—to my surprise the room is filled with about twenty finished paintings. The subjects are all different. One is of a girl lying on the beach. Another one is a boat docked as a brilliant red sunset looms on the horizon, casting beautiful colors against the ocean. A lot of them are landscapes, maybe places she has been to. They are all amazing. None of them seem to be people or places outside of the United States; it makes me wonder why she chose to do a single Eiffel Tower painting. It must have been what she was working on when V-Day hit. Such a shame, I think to myself. Why people like her? Or Noah… Why not me? Not that I would want such a fate for myself—however, it just didn’t seem to make sense. Why spare the talentless?
