by Matthew Fish
She emerges moments later in a tight fitting sweater top with a low cut front with white flower trimming. A shiny abalone shell button rests at the top, a stark contrast to the black and white of the sweater.
“I think it looks amazing,” I say. I do think she is rather attractive and as much as people make her out to be monster of some kind, I do not see anything but a beautiful young woman—I know that this is wrong. It is constantly in the back of my mind telling me to be cruel… for both our sakes. Don’t let her get attached… don’t get attached. Be cruel to be kind. However, I just can’t. I cannot bring myself to do it. I thought I could. I feel like I should be able to, but I am lost.
“I’ll definitely bring this one then,” She says as she runs off once more.
After a few times of back and forth she decides on four outfits that will be perfect. I think her asking—her dressing up in different outfits and making me decide, forces me to see her in a different way. A way I have been attempting to avoid this entire time. When she is like this, she seems so normal. Even when she’s being a mirror… I’m not annoyed by it. I’m not even afraid of the death aspect. This last notion begins to worry me. I remind myself I have a date with a normal. Maybe that will clear my head tomorrow. Perhaps, I just haven’t been around the opposite sex enough… working midnights and the odd jobs I’ve been doing for all these years doesn’t exactly lead to many opportunities.
“Thank you,” she says as she begins to pack up the four outfits into her suitcase. “I was up all day yesterday trying to figure out what to wear.”
“No problem at all,” I say as I nod. “Would you like me to make something for lunch?”
“Oh!” Cherie exclaims as she rushes to the fridge. I made some egg salad sandwiches. I hope you like them, I know not everyone does… I also have some potato chips. “
“You made this for us?”
“Yeah,” Cherie says as she smiles happily as she un-wraps two sandwiches and places them on a plate. She rips open the bag of chips and pours a generous pile next to her already cut sandwiches. She proudly places them on the table.
“Thank you,” I say as I smile. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” she says as she returns the smile as she sits down at the table and begins to eat.
“Are you afraid of flying at all?” I ask. I had been on a plane once; it was before V-Day of course. I couldn’t have been more than twelve and we were on our way to visit relatives in California. I was terrified the whole time. I was convinced that we were going to fall right out of the sky. It was just that we were up so high.
“Nope…!” Cherie says quickly as she hides a laugh with the back of her hand so that no stray particles of food may escape. “I fly all the time. I’ve flown in small planes… I’ve flown on big planes… I’ve driven nice cars and been on boats. I even know how to sail a little, my dad taught me.”
“I’m a little afraid of flying…” I begin to say but I notice that Cherie has stopped eating. Instead she just looks down blankly at her plate.
“Are you alright?” I ask, not knowing what exactly changed. She has been nothing but happy all day long. She hasn’t even mirrored at all.
“I don’t know what happened to my parents…” Cherie admits as tears begin to stream down from her eyes.
I rush over and take my unused napkin and wipe away the tears from her face. “I’m sorry…”
“They were with me, and now they’re not,” Cherie says as she continues to cry. “Did they abandon me?”
“No…” I say as I place my hand on her shoulder and continue to keep the heavy flow of tears at bay. “Of course they didn’t.”
“Are they like me?”
“I don’t know,” I say. I wish I did. I wish I could offer her some comfort. However, there was nothing in her file about parents.
“Look at me, crying the night before the big day…” Cherie says as she shakes her head. She reaches over and places her hand over mind. “And after all, you lost both of your parents. You seem to be alright. I should be alright too. I should be strong.”
I immediately want to withdraw, however I know that this will only upset her. “You don’t always have to be strong. It is alright to cry, it is fine to be weak at times. You just have to continue on. I had a hard time, and I cried. Everything bad you go through in life needs time to heal—and eventually you will heal.”
“You’re a good friend.”
I want to say that I’m not a friend. I’m not supposed to be. Just like before, I can’t say it. I am a weak person. Given the chance to do what is right, I buckle under the pressure. “Thank you…”
“I know that day, at the grocery store—when the kid said freak, he meant me.”
“I know, you’re smart… I just wanted you to have a good day,” I say as I let out a heavy sigh.
“I had a great day,” Cherie says as she squeezes my hand tightly. “You didn’t have to do that. Anyone else would have faced up to the truth that I am a freak.”
“You’re not a freak.”
“Not a freak…”
“We were doing so well today…” I say as I laugh.
“So well today,” Cherie repeats as she laughs.
She then, reflexively, yawns and stretches her arms out wide. Her obvious tell that she is exhausted. I look at my phone, it’s only about one p.m. Pretty early for her naps… Then again Sunday is almost here.
I take the plates to the kitchen as Cherie rests her head against the kitchen table. I wash the dishes and the return. “Are you tired?”
“I wasn’t… but now all of a sudden I am.”
“Want me to get you ready for your nap?” I say as I help her up from the chair. She seems rather unsteady on her feet.
“Take me to the bedroom please, Ethan.” She says as slowly lead the way.
“Do you want me to stay,” I ask as she sits down at the edge of her bed and looks at me groggily. “I can make diner.”
“I think I’m going to get plenty of sleep for tomorrow.”
“Alright, well then I will go if that’s what you want.”
“I can’t sleep in this,” Cherie says as she gets to her feet. “Turn around.”
I face the wall as I hear her rustling through her drawers. I can hear the faint sound of fabric against skin as she changes. For a moment I am strangely tempted to glance over. I know how wrong it is… Just even the thought of it can get me terminated. Acting on any kind of impulse can land me in jail… I need to face reality. There is no future here. This is, a woman, yes—but one who is may die soon. One who is going to kill me if I let my guard down and I have already let my guard down so easily. I feel like such a fool. Still, I cannot help but feel something. I bury it far away; after all, she is an Unstable.
“I’m ready,” She says as she crawls into bed. She has changed to a thin short red night gown. I find myself more attracted, but know that I have to keep my wits about me.
I help her cover up beneath three layers of blankets… after all, as I stated before, she likes to keep it cold. “I’m going to head out.”
“Sit with me until I fall asleep.”
I do as I am asked. I sit beside her. I rest my head against the wooden headboard. She places her hand in mine. I know I should reject it, but once again, I do not.
“You’ll be here in the morning?”
“I will,” I say. I feel guilty again. I know that tomorrow she will go to sleep and believe that she has flown to Paris, that her mind will force her to believe that she is there despite the fact that she will awake to the same apartment—the same city. The very thought of the cycle depresses me.
“Why do you look so sad?”
“Suppose it’s not everything you want it to be?”
“You’ll be there,” She says as she rises up from the bed and gently kisses me on the cheek. “I don’t think I need much more.”
As she collapses back into bed, I am left dumbstruck. I have allowed this to go
way too far. I hate myself for it. “What if you don’t get to see the Eiffel Tower after all?”
“Don’t be so negative,” She says as she squeezes my hand.
Without another word she falls asleep. I want so much to wake her up and tell the truth—that I won’t be here tomorrow… that she won’t even be awake at all tomorrow; however, I feel that opportunity has long passed. I have done the wrong thing and it is far too late to make it right.
I slip my hand out of hers and head for the door. Sadly, I look down and see the suitcase by the door… her brown boots all set out. I look over the painting of the Eiffel Tower and think; if only there was some way I could make that dream come true for her… I would. Before V-Day, it could have been a possibility… in another life perhaps this could have worked out. A tear runs down from my face as I choke back a sadness that I’ve long held within myself. A lot of things aren’t they way they should be… I know that, and I can’t change it. As frustrated as it all makes me, in the end I cannot do anything about any of it.
I wipe away the tears upon my white button up dress shirt as I make my way to the car. I call up the office, Katharine answers after a few moments.
“Cherie out for the day already as well…?” Katharine asks.
“Yeah, she was real high energy then just crashed,” I say as I attempt to keep a steady and confident tone. I do not want her to know that I am upset in any way. “Is it always like this towards the end of the week?”
“It can be,” Katharine answers. “Sometimes they’ll make it all day. Most often though you’ll get an early jump on your time off.”
“Got it,” I say as I nod to myself.
“So tomorrow night, dinner at the Argent. It’s a nice place.”
“With Michelle,” I say with a short laugh. More like a forced one. “I’m excited. It has been a long time since I’ve been on a date.”
“You know you get a five percent pay increase if you marry inside of C-Shapes… just throwing that out there,” Katharine says with a catty attitude.
“I haven’t even met the girl yet—are you working on commission here?”
“I just enjoy my job. It goes up to ten percent for both of you if you have a child…”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say as I laugh.
“Have a good time tomorrow night, you’ve earned it.”
“Thanks, Katharine.”
“Bye, Ethan.”
I arrive home, feeling just as terrible as I did when I left Cherie. I know that I have screwed things up. However, this is how things have to be—this is like a repeating thing for her. A part of her has to be used to it by now… otherwise, she would have never made it this long with the other Sitters. I think the truth is more that, I am a terrible Sitter—despite what Cherie and Noah think of me. I look into the mirror. I shave my face completely smooth with an electric razor and give myself a once over. My hair is getting a bit long. Perhaps, soon, I should get it cut.
I go through my closet attempting to pick out the nicest outfit I have. I know nothing about the Argent… other than the fact that it has been programmed into my car. I have a good idea though that it must be pretty upscale. I pick out the nicest dress shoes I have and go for an all black ensemble with a grey undershirt. I’ve always been partial to the color grey… I’ve probably mentioned that before.
Going through clothes reminds me of Cherie’s excitement, which saddens me once more. I feel no excitement at all. I know I should. After all, she is a successful, pretty woman. Maybe once I get to know her I’ll feel differently.
I turn on the TV to see if there is anything relevant I should be aware of.
With the promise of a new pill next month, and a cure within the next year an uprising in New Mexico to terminate their Unstables has been quelled. Texas and Alaska still remain independent despite the talk of this new cure—their newly appointed leaders calling it just that… talk, and nothing more.
Fires have been started by rioting civilians in Los Angeles. The governor has declared a state of emergency. However, the government cannot spare them any help. Volunteer hunters are on the way as Sitters have abandoned their jobs to join in the outrage. With one of the largest populations of Unstables in the state, there is a lot of worry that neither this new pill nor new cure will come in time to stop Los Angeles from becoming the next war zone. As it stands now, the police are attempting to fight against the civilians, while rumors spread that Aggros are on the loose.
Japan is moving ahead on its plan to move Unstables to Sapporo. A short video clip shows them all being lined up to board a giant ship that will carry them the short distance.
Egypt, one of C-Shapes main supporters and customers, has proclaimed that if a cure is not made available in the promised timeframe, that they will start to kill their Unstables as well. It is rumored that their neighboring countries support this decision as well.
The islands of Fiji have declared that they have destroyed every single Unstable. A feat they are very proud of, although I do not feel they should be so proud. I wonder if they will feel any amount of remorse when the cure is made available.
I have seen enough for one day, at least enough to have something to talk about. I imagine that this is what Sitters talk about when they get together… the fate of their cases. Then again, I’ve never met another Sitter.
I spend the rest of the day reading. I begin to miss the old days when there were entertaining things to distract you from the terrible aspects of life on TV. Now it’s just all breaking news, all the time. If you watch an hour worth of TV, then you have seen everything they’re going to repeat for the entire day. I suppose I could always go back and watch something old, or even see one of the older popular films in theater… there hasn’t been a new movie made in eight years—the industry has faded away. It is considered now a luxury that we, as a country, just can’t afford.
Instead, I decide to read. For a while, no one really read that much—that is one thing that has made a rather swift comeback. Good old fashioned paperbacks. I think it is a comfort thing. They remind people of a better time. Just the same way that antiques are becoming more and more popular. Sometimes I miss video games. You can still play some of the old stuff if you track down the antique systems. Just, no one has the time really. A lot of the old technology has been repurposed or just no longer works. If you want an old blu-ray player or video game system, then you’d better have a pretty good salary to back it up. I figure one day—I’ll probably have something from the better days—especially if I keep up my job with C-Shapes.
8. The Date
I arrive at the Argent a little after five p.m. I feel confident in my black suit. I am wearing my father’s old watch. It is one of the only things I have left to remind myself of him. As an antique, I could sell it for a fair price—but I never will.
As I step out of the car, I realize that the Argent is not just a restaurant… it is entire skyscraper. A silver sign hangs above tinted glass doors. The sign reads, ‘The Argent’ and in small print it says a C-Shapes Facility. It then, at that moment, all begins to make sense.
I walk into an opulent black marble hallway that ends with a rather large black man wearing a suit and a gun. He eyes me as I walk down the red carpeted marble hallway.
“Your badge, sir,” he says as he reaches out a large hand.
I quickly reach into my pockets and hand my C-Shapes badge over as instructed.
He runs it over the raised glass display in front of him and it scans my name into the system. “Ethan Chase, take the elevator on the left. Have the attendant take you up to the 34 floor,” he says as he reads off the info from the screen and then hands me back my badge.
“Thank you,” I say as I place it back in the front pocket of my pants.
“Good luck with your date,” He says with a single nod.
I stand before the silver elevator, its rounded door etched with the C-Shapes logo on the front. Now that I look at it, the bottom half of the design doe
s kind of resemble some kind of wave. As the door swings open, I shake my head free of the thought of all of Noah’s crazy conspiracies.
“Which floor, sir?” The attendant asks.
“34, I say with a nod as I realize that the reverse side of the elevator is made of glass. “Thanks…”
“As we rise up into the sky a garden appears in between the set of four connected skyscrapers. I watch in terror as I rise thirty four stories up. My knees feel a bit weak and my hands begin to shake.
“Not comfortable with heights?”
“It’s beautiful,” I say as I attempt to gain my composure. “But… yeah.”
“Here we are then, sir,” the well dressed attendant says as he gestures ahead. “The Argent Restaurant is just to right of this hall.”
I step out of the elevator, thankful to be out… slightly dreading the knowledge that I will have to take it back down. I know that they are safe—it’s just, I never feel very safe in them.
I round the hallway and find myself in large crimson red, circular room. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling en masse. Everything sparkles and refracts in the light of so many different facets. It reminds me of being in some kind of lit cavern full of diamonds… not that I’ve ever been in that kind of situation… it is the only thing that comes to mind.
I am immediately greeted by a tall man with dark hair and eyes. “Your name, sir…?”
“Ethan Chase,” I say. I have never been surrounded by so much awkward beauty. It is a little too much to take in all at once. As I follow behind him, I see that all the tables are lit with glass pyramid shaped lights that sit atop golden tables. C shaped booths encircle the tables cloaked in red velvet fabric with golden imprints of vines. I am taken to a dimly lit booth in the far corner of the restaurant. My date is already seated and nursing a small glass of wine.
“Ethan,” She says with a deep red smile and reaches her hand out.
I take her hand in my own and nod. “Michelle.”
“Sorry I got here a little early,” Michelle says as I sit down against the soft red velvet. “I hope you don’t mind I ordered us a bottle of white.
