Dish pulled the cloth from his eyes and squinted in the light. “I’m feelin’ a lot better, Lennon. Thank you.”
She smiled. “Just took a few minutes for the meds to kick in, that’s all.”
“Regardless, thank you. I owe ya. Hey, what’s with the leaves? Doin’ some sort of aromatherapy?” He sniffed. “Don’t smell nothin’.”
“Somebody cut up the pepper plants,” she said sadly.
“What? Why would they do that?”
She shrugged.
“How do you even know they were cut?”
“They were cut, alright?”
“Are you sure?”
She got a little cross. “Of course I’m sure, Dish, they were cut, ok?”
“You don’t have to snap. I just can’t think why anyone would do such a thing, ’cept…”
Her eyebrows rose. “Except what?”
“I don’t know. If I had to guess, I would think that Parker did it.”
“Parker? Why?”
“Dunno. She just… sometimes she’s different. She gets… impulsive, and does things, and then feels really bad about it. Sometimes she doesn’t even remember the stuff she’s done.”
Lennon glanced involuntarily at the rat. “Did she say something to you about the plants?”
“No, ’course not. I would have told you.”
Lennon snatched the cloth and threw it in a bag. “I’m talking to her,” she said.
“No, don’t. She’ll think I told.”
“If she did this, I need to talk to her about it. It’s not right. These pepper plants weren’t just mine, they were ours.” She zipped up the bag. “It’s not right,” she said again. “I’m talking to her.”
Dish took her wrist. “Lennon, listen to yourself. I just told you a hunch. You can’t just go accusin’. Still, it’s not right if someone cut up those plants. You gotta talk to Matthews.”
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to Matthews.”
Dish grabbed her wrist. “Rebecca!” he whispered, “There’s something goin’ on with her. You be careful around her.”
Matthews listened intently while Lennon told him about the incident with the pepper plants. Despite his direct attention, he seemed fidgety and did not look into her eyes for more than a few seconds. “Do you really think she did it?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Jonas. Right now I guess it is more that I think no one else did.”
He leaned over and played with the beveled surrounding of an indicator lamp, spinning it absentmindedly. His behavior was noticeably different to her from just a few days ago.
“Are you alright, Matthews? You seem distracted.”
He gave her an odd, long look. “Is this the only thing that you want to talk about?”
“Why else would I be here?” she demanded. “Yes, this is what I want to talk about. Someone cut up the pepper plants.”
“Right. Well, I can’t do anything without evidence. I guess we will need to have a crew meeting and hash this out.”
“There’s something else.”
His eyebrows rose, as if he were expecting more.
“Someone killed a rat.”
He seemed surprised, but he reacted differently than Lennon expected. “That is definitely not what I thought you were going to say,” he mused.
She was puzzled. “Were you expecting something specific?”
“Never mind. How do you know someone killed it? Could it have just died?”
“I did an autopsy. A simple one, for sure, but there are strong signs of strangulation.”
He gave her a long look. “Are you one hundred percent?”
“Well, no, it could never be one hundred percent, but…”
“We need to sit on that. A rumor like that would tear this crew apart. Let’s try to find about the pepper plants and go from there.”
“Ok,” she agreed halfheartedly.
“There’s nothing else?”
What was he looking for? “No,” she replied.
He sighed, an agitated breath that seemed to indicate he was frustrated with her. “Let’s get the crew together, then.”
The crew assembled in the ChowBucket. While they waited for Major Matthews to begin, Dish and Abrams busied themselves with a blob of coffee that had leaked from a drinking pouch. Parker stayed to the side, watching everyone with wide, worried eyes. She looked like a lost puppy. Eventually, she moved next to Lennon, apparently feeling more comfortable by the other woman.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
Thankfully, Lennon did not have time to answer. “Let’s get this started,” Matthews said, and clapped his hands. The room became silent. “As most of you know, the pepper plants in the Atrium were cut up and destroyed. Before anyone asks, yes, they were actually cut and yes, it appears to be intentionally so. I’m just going to get right to it: who did it?” He looked around the room.
Dish shrugged and lifted his eyes at Parker. Abrams nervously glanced around before settling on Parker as well. Lennon saw everyone looking at Parker, and so she did too.
“What’s everyone looking at me for?” she said loudly. “Why would I cut them?”
Dish raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.
“Come on, guys, we’re all adults,” Matthews pleaded. “Just man up—or woman up—and admit you did it!”
“Oh, so now you think it’s me?” Parker shouted.
“No, Parker, I don’t know who it is. I want someone to confess.”
“Go ahead,” prodded Dish, “confess.”
“You know, Dish, you can be such a—forget it. I didn’t do it. Someone else is going to have to confess.” Parker crossed her arms and glared at the wall.
Matthews looked each person in the eye. “So this is how it is going to be?” he asked. No one spoke.
“Fine. Ok. This is how it’s going to be. How about this: I am imposing the loss of privileges for the entire crew, for one week. If someone confesses, we will reinstate privileges.”
Dish threw his pen at the wall. It bounced off with a small tick. “Great, just great.”
“Does this include mail?” Parker asked.
“Should you be askin’?” Dish said angrily.
“Shut up, Dish,” Major Matthews retorted. “All privileges. No mail, no media players, no cards. I want all players in my hand within thirty minutes.”
Dish stormed out of the room.
As the room cleared out, Parker remained with a bewildered look on her face.
Day Seventy
Although the Atrium had the large screen, designed for watching movies or other video, the ChowBucket also was equipped for crew enjoyment of media. There was no screen, but a sound system existed for astronauts to connect their media players in order to play music or share a video—that is, if no one minded watching the small screen of the portable media player.
The week with no privileges had passed, and no one had confessed. When Matthews reinstated privileges, everyone checked their mail and then disappeared with their media players. After that, things returned to normal.
It was morning, and Lennon was trying something different for breakfast. She had been unusually cold lately, and there was a selection of instant hot chocolate on the ship. Each crewmember had a limited amount of such “treats”, and Lennon decided that today was the day for hot chocolate. “Hey Abrams,” she called, as she shook the bag of hot water and chocolate mix to stir it up.
“Yo,” he answered, without looking. He was mixing up some freeze-dried scrambled eggs.
“Anything going on with the temperature? I’ve been cold lately.”
He shrugged. “Checked out fine this morning.” He had most likely checked—Abrams was sometimes obsessive about keeping everything running.
She furrowed her brow. “Anyone else been cold?”
Parker had not come in for breakfast yet, but Matthews and Dish were in the room. Each of them shook their heads ‘no’, and then Dish spoke up. “Actually, I have felt a little col
d.”
“It’s fine,” Abrams grumbled.
Lennon did not doubt him. She decided to perform a self-examination later and make sure that she was not getting sick or experiencing any health problems.
Parker pulled herself into the room, carrying her media player. She was wearing only a tight undershirt and underwear, which bothered Lennon a little bit. It had been common dress for Parker for the last few weeks. None of the men seemed to notice or care, which made her grateful.
“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Dish grinned. They had been amicable the last few days, atypical of their stormy relationship. Parker did not acknowledge him. She floated to the audio system and plugged in her media player.
“You, uh, want some music for breakfast?” Abrams asked, turning around. She did not answer, and pushed her finger on the front of the player.
The sound of drums filled the air. It was a rock beat, with a tribal feel to it. Something screeched in the song. It blended with the tribal beat, sounding like some sort of jungle animal. Maybe a monkey? Parker turned the volume up. The song had a familiar sound; perhaps it was a classic rock song from a long time ago.
Parker pushed the media player away and flipped her hair back. Then she began to dance. As she floated in front of the wall speakers, she moved in rhythm with the beats. She obviously knew how to dance. It was graceful, purposeful without exhibiting effort, and synchronous with the beat of the music. There was something more, however. Lennon could not figure out exactly how, but something about the way Parker moved was obviously sexual. Lennon was furious. She looked at the men in the room, expecting one of them to do something about it.
Abrams stared at Parker with his mouth open. His scrambled eggs were floating away and he did not seem to notice. Dish was smiling and nodding. Matthews watched with no expression on his face.
“Are you serious?” Lennon demanded. Parker did not react.
“Hey, quiet, Lennon, this is cool,” said Dish.
She was flabbergasted. What was happening? A male voice began singing.
Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and fate
She had heard this song before. Was it the Rolling Stones? She would have to look it up later.
Parker ran her hands through her hair and gyrated. Dish cheered and clapped, while Abrams pumped his fist in the air.
What was Parker thinking? Lennon would have to have a talk with her later. She looked at Matthews again, wishing he would stop Parker. His face was blank. She wished she could read his thoughts—then again, she realized that she did not want to know. She hoped that he was above falling for this kind of obvious sensationalism. It occurred to her that she respected him greatly; the idea of him succumbing to the superficial charms of a woman based on that instantaneous visual gratification would be more disappointing to her than she wanted to admit.
She was attracted to him. She pushed the thought out of her mind and looked at Parker again. Parker was looking directly at her and grinning. Did she know? Could Parker have read Lennon’s thoughts by watching her stare at Matthews? Lennon swallowed. She hoped not. The lyrics to the music continued:
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
It was an intense rock song. It was full of energy; yet the energy came from something other than the fast, screaming notes that rock musicians traditionally use in energetic songs.
Abrams pushed away from the table and moved next to Parker. He began to dance with her. She moved close to him and rubbed the top of his head with both hands.
Dish was next to Abrams in seconds, launching towards them with a clenched jaw and a red face. He tapped Abrams on the shoulder and said something that Lennon was unable to hear. Abrams shrugged and held his palms up. She could not hear his response over the music, but the shape his mouth made when he spoke made it appear that he said “What?”
Lennon saw what was about to happen next, but was unable to get there in time. Matthews apparently predicted it as well, but he too was also too late to stop Dish from punching Abrams square in the jaw. The impact pushed Dish and Abrams apart from each other, and Matthews caught Dish’s right arm from behind just as he was getting ready to strike again. Lennon glanced at Parker. She was looking at Abrams with her hand in front of her mouth. From her view to the side, Lennon was able to observe that although Parker’s mouth was making the shape of the word “oh”, she was clearly stifling a laugh.
Lennon got between Abrams and Parker and put a hand on Abrams’ chest. She snatched the media player out of the air with her other hand and switched it off.
“Oh, my,” said Parker, still covering her mouth.
“Lennon, take him to the Atrium and make sure he’s ok,” commanded Matthews. “I need to talk to Dish alone. Parker, get some clothes on.”
Lennon obeyed, following Abrams to the Atrium. Before she left, she glanced at the media player. The display listed the song title, followed by the artist and the album. Sympathy for the Devil, The Rolling Stones, Beggars Banquet, 1968. There was something about the song. It was itching at Lennon, calling attention to some connection that she felt too paranoid to make. She tried to think about taking care of Abrams instead of letting crazy theories fill her mind.
Just after she and Abrams made it to the Atrium, Parker passed by and headed towards Crew Quarters without a single word.
TRANSMISSION: START
Mission Control Station
Incoming message from Seeker 3. Receipt time 1407z, 1007 mission time
Subject: Weekly physical and mental health report, week 10
From: Dr. Rebecca Lennon, physical and mental health officer, Seeker 3
----
Crew status: Healthy and functional
Individual status:
Lt Colonel Nicholas Quesen—Deceased
Major Jonas Matthews—Within acceptable norms.
Captain Justin Petri—Within acceptable norms.
Dr. Maria Parker—Exhibiting strange behavior. Mental health screening pending. See crew observations.
Dr. Rebecca Lennon—Within acceptable norms.
Kyle Abrams—Small Injury to upper lip with light bleeding. See crew observations.
----
Crew observations:
Crew has been experiencing elevated stress levels leading to infighting and general uneasiness. A physical altercation has occurred between Captain Justin Petri and Kyle Abrams. Initial indications are that the fight occurred after a response from Abrams to erratic behavior from Dr. Maria Parker. Abrams’ response to Parker offended Petri and Petri struck Abrams once in the face before Major Matthews restrained him.
Major Matthews has issued reprimands and has recommended punitive actions for Parker, Petri, and Abrams, including the loss of media privileges and the assignment of additional duties for one week.
----
Recommendations:
I recommend continued monitoring of crew mental health with specific screening of Dr. Parker to be completed before a follow up plan is formulated.
End of report from seeker 3.
TRANSMISSION: END
Lennon clicked the button on her pen a few times before she realized that the repetitive action was probably a little distracting. Parker politely cleared her throat.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Parker began.
“How about we start with what happened today.”
“What, with Dish and Abrams? I had nothing to do with that.”
“No, but you did, Parker. Let’s go earlier than that. What is going on with you and Dish?”
She crossed her arms and scoffed. “Nothing. Nothing is going on.”
“Are you in a relationship or not?”
“Come on, Lennon. He was lonely and I was lonely. That’s it.”
“Does he think you are in a relationship?”
“Apparently so.
I thought we had been clear.”
“Parker, you can’t play with people’s emotions like that.”
“Who’s emotions? Dish? He knew what he was getting into.”
“Parker, you just danced seductively in front of three men that are looking at the possibility of not being in a relationship for almost three years. We talked about this, Parker. You know that men don’t think with their heads. Don’t you remember that stalker? What are you trying to start?”
She made a small movement that looked like a cough and then brought her hand to her mouth. There was a tremble in her hand and Lennon realized that Parker was fighting back tears. Parker said nothing for a few minutes and then her head lurched forward as she could no longer keep from crying.
Lennon put her hand around Parker’s shoulder. “Parker, what’s going on?”
“I’m so lonely,” she sobbed. “You have no idea. You don’t hear me crying at night, but every night, I do. All I want is for someone to touch me, to say that they need me. To say that they love me. Here I am, in the one place where I can’t get it. It just drives me crazy sometimes. I know what I did was wrong. I just… I’m sorry. I needed some affection.”
Lennon could understand, in a way. Everyone had felt the hurt of being alone. Parker was just so much more touch-oriented. It was hard for her to be away from a close relationship with someone, where she could feel the comfort of another’s hand in her own, or the soft touch of a hand on her cheek.
“I won’t do it again,” Parker said. I just wanted to feel close to someone. I didn’t realize how much I missed that contact.” She took a deep breath. “You know, even my parents would never hug me. I asked them to once, but…”
“I’m sorry, Maria,” Lennon consoled her. She did not know what to do so she gave her a hug.
Parker hugged her vigorously. She did not let go, and after a few minutes, Lennon pulled away. Parker wiped the tears from her eyes and blew her nose. “Do you think it’s possible to have my family send a video? It would help me a lot, I think, with how lonely I feel. I just want to see everyone from home.”
Single Event Upset Page 11
