Lenders

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Lenders Page 34

by Johnson, John


  “Jessie,” he said massaging her leg back and forth, “I already talked to him. Sort of jokingly but I know he’ll do it. I asked him what he would do for…anyway he said he would aim the cameras away for five minutes while we—any more would be suspicious. All you have to do is meet him, late tomorrow in the park, go back to his place, then—you know.” She kept moving her head side to side. And she looked fragile and shaky, like she was going to pass out. George paused noticing, but continued nudging the idea. “Jessie, make it quick—” He stuttered a laugh. “Would probably be less than a minute anyway. Then, Monday morning before work tell Amy you would like to walk with her to work, and talk with her a little. You know—tell her you want a truce, you want to be friends, get to know her a little. Ask her to walk with you, the long way to work along Rim Road so you can talk and get acquainted before logging in together. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “I don’t know George. I don’t want to sleep with anyone, only you,” Jessie said sadly.

  “Come here,” George said pulling her close. “You know I love you and after this we’ll be together forever, just me and you, young and beautiful. And this little onetime thing won’t change anything. Like Rico reminded us—we’re at war, right? The things we do at the lenders program, the hard things like he said, it’s because we are at war. This is our way to fight, and sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do.”

  “I know George, but—” Jessie wept, and finally, her muscles gave out. She fell limp into his arms.

  “I love you Jessie—” He rocked her a little. “—you know that don’t you.” He pulled on the back of her hair angling her head up to him. Their eyes met. Like a bulb had been smashed hers were less of a bright green, turgid and gushing with stormy tears. He slowly continued, “And I know you can do this. But if you don’t want to do this one thing for me, for our future together, I will understand. We can call it off right now.”

  Jessie couldn’t speak right away. She felt a sharp pain invading her throat, right alongside a large dull lump, and her body trembled. She cried like a little girl, sniffling. But, she wanted more than anything to make George happy, and to keep him so, forever; to keep that painful empty pit full at all times.

  “I love you too George. I’ll—do it for you.” She squeezed herself into him. Water-balloon-sized tears fell to his body and pooled between his ripped chest muscles. His hand lowered to caress her naked hips and he smiled looking at her nude body again. His grin grew as the pool of tears deepened. As they overflowed onto the overly-sexed sheets he had to try to contain a laugh, and dissembled it in exchange for a sinister full-toothed smile. She’ll be mine forever, and do whatever I want, he thought. The new power of control he had over her left him feeling fantastic. And he thought about how well he was going to sleep, right after some more good…

  39. Board Game

  The next day Jessie left David’s apartment and headed home.

  The elevator stopped on the floor above hers and its doors opened. She composed herself but it was still obvious she had been crying. She walked down the hallway to the last apartment and knocked on the door.

  “It’s open Jim, you know it,” Amy said. Jessie slowly turned the knob and peeked inside. “Gee that was fast. Oh—Jessie, it’s, you. I’m sorry I was expecting Jim with some food from my mom’s. Um, what’s up? ”

  Meekly she said, “I hope I’m not intruding, can I come in?”

  “Of course, you are very welcome anytime Jessie,” Amy replied. “We were gonna play one of these old board games. I checked it out from the library. Have you ever played this one?” She’d been reading the instructions when Jessie knocked.

  “No, I can’t say I have. I, I just wanted to sincerely apologize for how I’ve acted toward you. I know we will be logging in tomorrow morning and, I want us to get along. I, want to be your friend.” A big smile lit Amy’s face and she tossed the instructions and got up.

  “I will be happy and honored to be your friend,” Amy said moving toward her. “Apology accepted.” She noticed Jessie had puffy eyes. “Jessie are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

  Jessie wiped any trace of lingering tears and blinked her eyes. She didn’t feel comfortable in Amy’s apartment, and as she had just found out, Jim would be coming back soon. Although he’d changed, she knew him notably as a grouch and couldn’t take any negativity, not right now. “I’m fine,” she said. “I was thinking of how we, might have been mean to you, and I started to cry on the way over here. Friends then!” Jessie changed her tone to a perky one. “And, I wanted to ask if you would join me on the walk to work tomorrow. I know you like going through the park so figured we could take the long way around it and get to know each other a little.” Amy’s smile lit the walls. Jessie had just made her day, her week, her month!

  “I’d absolutely love to. I’ll wait for you here, just knock when you're ready. I do wake up early though—I love going to work so I’m always the first one there. Uh, are you sure you won’t join us? I think this game is better with more players. It’s something about buying properties and houses and stuff.”

  “I really must be going,” Jessie answered and starting to move backward toward the door. “I have to wake up earlier then. And yes work is okay, but I’m usually the last one. I’ve never actually logged in with anyone besides, George. I have to tell you, honestly I was always in my heart looking forward to our time together.”

  Amy went ahead of her to get the door. Her eyes went up. It struck her a bit odd for the slightest moment but her elation rationalized everything. “Okay, then we’ll see each other tomorrow. And Jessie, you don’t know how happy I am that you came. Please come over anytime.”

  Jessie headed back to her floor. She knew George was awaiting her. As soon as the elevator door closed Jim passed arriving from the stairs carrying a tan basket with some delicious smelling Italian food in it. Bertha sent over food frequently, sneak-outs and leftovers from the restaurant.

  Another knock. Amy asked, “Jim, that you?”

  “Of course, who else?” He threw a silly smile. He’d only been gone for about twenty minutes—since Bertha’s messenger came to tell Amy about the food. “We got some gooood stuff in here Amy. Pasta, pizza burritos—I don’t know why Julio doesn’t make these—and bread sticks.” Jim rummaged through the basket. He enjoyed Bertha’s cooking, and since Amy had arrived, commenced to loving pizza—a happy food—once again; he’d found himself outside, and at Julio’s quite a bit lately. Plus Bertha’s cooking was way better than anything from the kitchen below, and he could save his rations for other extremely important things like, coffee: a high priced commodity, one the botanists had always struggled with.

  “You won’t believe who came over while you were gone,” Amy said heading for the counter. Jim was laying out the food and getting some plates.

  “Who?”

  “Jessie,” she said. Jim stopped messing with the dishes and froze his glance toward her.

  “Star? What was she doing here?”

  “Well, she told me she was sorry for being mean. She wants to be friends and said she’s, quote, honestly looking forward to working together tomorrow.”

  Jim continued with the food, slowly. He pushed out a worrisome breath and said, “That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “Well, I’m glad she did. And she looked like she had been crying, a lot. Her eyes were all swollen and purple underneath.”

  Jim didn’t know what to think but something just didn’t feel right to him. He couldn’t wait until Amy was done with Jessie, but especially that fucker George. While he didn’t like the idea of Amy being logged in with her, he dreaded her spending any time with him. And he’d already made plans with Ted to scrutinize their sessions. Visions entered his mind and he shook them away, then he remembered. He’d had dreams with George lately, fighting ones. The kind where he’d smash him to pieces and choke him with all he had, and somehow he would keep on coming and coming. And he’d p
unched his head until it was a pile of mash and pulp, but somehow, he’d still, even headless, keep fucking coming. And he remembered how he’d woken enraged, his heart a speed-bag getting punched inside his chest.

  “Well, that’s—nice I guess,” Jim said, half dazed and perturbed. “I just—”

  “What Jim?” Amy asked with a sprinkle of irritation.

  “Ah, nothing,” he replied quickly, blowing it off again. But he felt he’d blown off too much already, he should’ve kicked his ass. Tomorrow, yes, he’d decided, I’m going to say something to George and his doll, and I’m going to make myself perfectly clear. “I’ll be glad when you’re done with those two. We had some great fun working together, and, well I miss you I guess. Maybe I’m just jealous—I want my partner back.”

  Amy smiled at him. They’d been spending more time together lately, and she liked working with him, but really enjoyed getting close with everyone on the team. It felt more like a family, the more complete one she had always longed for.

  He served the plates and Amy looked with bright round eyes. She dug in immediately and started devouring the food, Jim followed. She finished two pizza burritos to Jim’s one then started on the pasta.

  “Don’t you say it Jim,” Amy said slowly, mouth stuffed, noticing Jim was giving her the wow look again. He knew her well enough now and they could joke openly. This time he threw his serious side out the window and they had fun. He stuffed his face trying to mimic her. He tried to win, devouring the food, now in a competition. Of course, after the last bite they both knew who the loser was and shared a good laugh together. Oddly he’d developed a penchant for watching her eat, and no longer wondered how so much food could just vanish. He was convinced—it just evaporated in her stomach.

  They finished the meal and started the board game. It was a long one but Amy won. She bought houses, even hotels, and Jim ended up in jail. It was one of the happiest times Jim had spent with her, besides their crazy exploits in Future City. He was really coming out of his shell and went home with a plastered smile.

  40. The Fight

  She sat on the edge of her chair fidgeting anxiously—quiet and alone in her kitchen, ready for work.

  Knock knock.

  Yes! Amy leapt to get the door. She’s here, and early! “Good morning Jessie!” She said opening it. “Ready to have a blast?” Ecstatically delighted Jessie was her friend, she couldn’t wait to work with her, so much so, that she’d barely slept a wink. A weight was lifted from her shoulders—no more dirty looks, shoves, or hurtful words. A new best friend, the one she’d wanted since the beginning.

  Together they set off. Leaving the building they turned left and followed Main Street. Amy’s mind was happy and carefree, but Jessie, and it showed on her face, was timid and her thoughts troubled her. George told her nothing about what he’d planned to do, only saying: trust me.

  Instead of dead-ending at the wall they took a shortcut around the gym and through the woods which more quickly led them to Rim Road; rarely did anyone walk this route, cutting through the park was more efficient and pleasant. Chatting—Amy mostly—and strolling leisurely they followed the long dusty road alongside the base of the wall. Several times Jessie nervously peered up to the cameras while Amy told her about a plan she’d envisioned for their first day together; she wanted everything to be special. Jessie acknowledged, managing to form a smile from time to time, but really didn’t comprehend her. She kept glancing up and around. The cameras were high, almost out of sight, but visible, and they pointed due south, clearly overlooking their position. There was plenty of time to talk and get to know each during the walk but it was a one-sided conversation. Ahead: the canal’s outlet from the wall, and the small wooden bridge that crossed it.

  Amy was blabbing nonstop and Jessie kept smiling and nodding. After crossing the small hump of a bridge Jessie slowed down. Her ears started to ring. Jagged thoughts scattered her focus. She could no longer hear Amy; looking around, everywhere, timorously, her heart raced. She had second thoughts but couldn’t take action on them, until now. She didn’t know what George had planned but decided just then—she was not going to go through with it. Amy was a nice person and she was actually starting to like her. Whenever she spent time away from George she saw things differently. And now, she made up her mind. And her thoughts cleared, and she could again hear Amy. She’s such a chatterbox, her mind told her, trying to think. Now, how to get out of this? She stopped and looked around. There was no way to cross the canal that edged the park: either continue on the narrow section between the wall and the canal, or, head back. Passing the bridge was a point of no return, perfect for, a trap! Oh, no. She interrupted Amy mid sentence and clutched her hand and said quickly, “Amy, come on let’s go back across the bridge and cut through the park, the flowers are much prettier—”

  Half turned around, she saw. A bolt of energy stabbed her spine shooting icy lightning to every nerve in her body. The shock froze her every muscle. George bore directly toward her. His sly creep turned into a dash, and he raised the blade. Jessie knew it then, he’d been hiding under the bridge. The pulse of the shock pushed her eyes wide open, and time slowed. She turned and yelled, “Amy watch out!”

  Jessie tried to pull her away but their hands parted. It was too late. Time was back at full speed, and it was happening. George brought down the knife—into Amy’s back. With a dull crack it lodged remaining stuck between the ribs. Her reflexes jolted her into a spin. As if someone had punched her in the stomach her face distended and the white of her eyes flooded with red. Her sudden jerk had plucked the handle from George’s clumsy grip and she looked up at him, and she looked at Jessie who had a frozen panicked stare; their eyes confessed every painful detail in an instant.

  He’d flinched, like a kid firing a gun for the first time. Shock commanded his face and his muscles weakened in a moment of pure surreality. And he mused at the feel, watching her fold. He’d never stabbed a real person before, or killed anything for that matter; he was a city boy, an underwear model before the war. The sensation of the knife entering her flesh—the muffled knock echoed through the blade like a tuning fork. And he paused watching her, holding still with arms at his sides as she struggled to catch her breath. She heaved over, breathing nothing in, releasing a silent scream. Leaning forward made her twinge and she jerked and twisted to the side, reaching for it.

  Jessie unfixed herself and ran to help. George forcefully bunted her aside. Into the dirt, onto her butt she landed hard. She looked up at him, then back to Amy. She could only watch in horror as George regained control of his determination, branding himself as a can-do killer. Amy kept twisting, arcing, trying to reach her back, stumbling backwards. Her skinny legs tangled and she fell over. George took a deep breath and bent his back splaying his arms upward. He cracked a sinister smile and let the warm morning sun graze his face, then slowly moved only his head, looking down to Jessie on the ground. “Jessie, get the fuck out of here now!”

  Stirring dust wildly she fumbled to get up then bolted. As she reached the bridge she hesitated, and turned to see. Amy appeared so tiny compared to George. She lay in the middle of the dirt road, belly down beneath him, his boot pressing her. He was atop working the blade back and forth trying to dislodge it. I can’t leave her. I won’t, she thought.

  Tugging fiercely he finally managed to dislodge the knife. Curiously he hesitated, there was very little spatter, and he kept a foot planted on her while inspecting the deep gash as it pooled with blood. Amy wriggled in pain, having finally caught her breath she cried out. He pressed his boot forcing her air out again. Everything seemed to perplex him, although not as much as that initial stab. Real life was a bit different from the dream world, in a chilling way; different when a real person is about to die. Satisfying. A minuscule part of him dreaded the sensation of the knife, entering her again. Just the feeling of it sliding in: maybe sticking something hard, maybe not. And he removed his foot.

  Amy rolled catching her breath
and looked up into his haunting eyes. With barely enough air to form words she managed to faintly utter, “George, no, please.”

  But George had unfamiliar and frozen eyes, and he knew, this was it. He no longer blinked. He granted his sinister side, the growing part of him that liked it—the shock, the sensation, especially the power—free reign, and raised the blade. He was trance-like with a placid drunk smile. Amy squeezed her eyes and tucked into a ball.

  “Uuumph!” Jessie tackled him with all she had. Weighing about half as much as George, the full speed tackle ricocheted her like a pool ball hitting the bank. And the impact jarred her perception of time. Floating through the air, slow motion, everything became clear. I hate him. I—always have. His fucking rules and his twisted desires, everything. His long stares and constant needs. He’s sick, and disgusting. I fucking hate you— She landed on the ground hard, snapping time painfully back into its place. George, had barely fallen to a knee.

  Jessie—betrays—ME, he thought erecting himself. His eyes were slits and he held a deep breath of fury. With every muscle clenched he stomped to face her. He’d become rabid to the next degree and released the pent air with a new aim. “You fucking bitch.” He moved one step per word. “I am going to fucking kill you!” She squirmed, kicking at the dry dirt. And he came down.

  He dropped to his knees, palming her into submission, and very easily overpowered her delicate frame. Every muscle in his body was steel as she slapped him wildly but he quickly pinned her flat on her back arms to the side. Her sobs had changed to anger, and he was intent on fixing that.

  “Do it,” Jessie commanded, then spat. Her mind had put together more in the last few moments than it had in years. She was scared, and hoped that Amy was up and running to get help.

 

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