Outside, Jake steered her around to the dumpster at the back of the establishment. Why not steal a page from Jamie Shepherd's playbook?
"How heavy would you say the dumpster is?" he asked her.
"No idea."
"Too heavy for me to lift, right?"
"Too heavy for ten of you to lift, I'd say."
Jake stooped and gripped the bottom with one hand. He wasn't sure he could lift it, but he had a feeling he could at least move it. He strained upward. One end of the dumpster tilted off the asphalt. He stood holding it with one hand for a moment while Jenna gaped before lowering it to the ground with a warm satisfaction derived from her expression and the relative ease of the lift. Empty, the dumpster had to weight six or seven hundred pounds easy.
"What do you think?" Jake asked, grinning at her. "Are you starting to believe?"
"I'm starting to believe I'm losing my mind. How did you do that?" She looked around again. "Is there a camera? Is this some kind of reality show?"
"No camera. I hope." He motioned her closer. "Now I'm gonna do something like what I did under your RV." He tapped a bar attached along one end. "I'm going to bend it. Tell me a shape you want it in, so you'll know this couldn't be a special effect setup or something."
"Um...okay." She set her shoulders. "Make it into a 'J'."
"I'll give it a shot."
Once again, Jake wasn't sure he could pull it off, but he was sure he could at least bend the bar. He gripped a section of it and brought on the heat. The metal glowed obligingly. Jake concentrated and began to twist. It was easier than he'd expected. The bar was like putty in his hands. He curled out the bottom of the J and squeezed the bar in to form a top line of the capital letter. It took less than thirty seconds – the whole time Jenna gasping behind him.
"No," she said. "It's not possible."
"Yeah." Jake stepped back and brushed off his hands. "I've been there."
"How could you...how could you possibly...?"
"Baby, it's a long story, and believe me, I don't understand a lot of it. But there's some shit you don't know about that would blow your fucking mind. And this is one of those things."
"You really don't talk like a girl."
"'Cause I ain't no girl." Jake looked down at his body. "Except on the surface."
"If that's true..." She was eyeing him speculatively – or maybe, he thought, hopefully. "Then will you change back to being a man?"
"Jeez, I hope so. If nothing else, I really like pissing standing up."
Jenna burst out laughing. "Darn," she muttered. "God help me, but I think I might actually believe you."
Jake held out his hand. After a pause, she clasped it.
"What the heck is going on here?"
Jenna tugged her hand out of Jake's. The boyfriend stood there, glancing between them like a Bobblehead on a bumper car.
"Jenna?" he asked, looking at Jake. His eyes moved to the real deal. "Jenna?"
"Alfie," said Jenna. "I'm Jenna."
"Then...who is...this?" He thrust a finger at Jake. "Do you have a twin sister you never told me about?"
"I've been trying to figure out who – or what – she is." Jenna swallowed. "Not a twin sister, though. At least not one I've ever heard about. I just ran into her in the ladies' room."
Alfonso stepped closer to them, his eyes traveling up and down Jake, furrows digging into his forehead. "This is not making sense."
"Tell me about it," said Jenna.
"I think we should go." Alfonso held out his hand. "This whole trip has been one long journey into madness. Let's just drive straight home now, stopping only when we need to, and try to put this whole thing out of our minds."
Jenna nodded, but without conviction, Jake thought. He fought a powerful urge to step between them and tell the guy to go fuck himself, but what right did he have to do that? He didn't even know Jenna, despite having her body. But he couldn't stop feeling he'd found something special in this beautiful lady, something worth fighting for, as crazy as that seemed.
"Aren't you a little curious about, well, her?" Jenna nodded to Jake.
Alfonso turned his gaze with heavy reluctance on Jake. "So what does she say?"
"That she's a shapeshifter. That she's really that guy who fixed the broken pipe back on the highway."
"No wait a minute. You're saying...this woman is claiming to be Mr. Macho Man with the muscle car? Jock or Jackass something or other?"
"Jake," said Jenna. "Jake Culler."
Alfonso turned to Jake. "Is that true?"
"It's true." Jake gave him an icy smile. "Asshole."
"You're calling me an asshole?" He sounded honestly hurt.
"Didn't you just call me a jackass?"
"Okay." Jenna eased between them, holding out her arms. "Let's try to keep this civil, you two. Alfie, you're right. I don't know what's happening here, but I think we should leave and try to put it behind us."
"Or – door Number Two – you could come with me."
Jenna turned to him with a startled frown. Jake was just as startled by his proposition as she was. The words had just popped out. But having been said, he knew he meant them.
"That would be..." She searched for the word. "Crazy?"
Jake forced a shrug. "Some things are just meant to be."
"I don't know who you are," said Alfonso, "but you are completely certifiable. Jenna's not a lesbian and doesn't even know you. Pretending to be a guy she might have the hots for isn't going to accomplish anything."
"You think I had the hots for him?" Jenna was frowning at him in pained disbelief.
"I saw the way you looked at him." Her boyfriend waved it aside. "It's okay. It's only human to look at other people sometimes."
"But how would she know about Jake?"
Alfonso shrugged. "They're friends. Or brother and sister. Who knows and really, why should we care?"
Jenna's frown intensified. She stared at the asphalt between them.
"There's a simple, rational explanation, I promise." Alfonso held out his hand. "But, Jenna, it's time for us to go."
"A simple explanation for this?"
Jenna stepped over and touched the bar on the side of the dumpster that had been bent into the letter J. "I watched her bend that with her bare hands."
"You watched her do what?" Alfonso approached the dumpster and regarded the bar, eyes squeezing half-shut in disbelief. "You're really saying you saw her bend the bar like this?"
"I did."
"That's how I fixed your pipe under the RV." Jake smiled at his growing consternation. "Remember the bright light? That was the metal glowing as I fused the pipes together."
"Okay. Enough of this lunacy." Alfonso grabbed Jenna by one wrist. "We're leaving. Right now."
He tugged her away from the dumpster. Jake stepped in front of them. Jenna shook her head.
"We're leaving," she said. "Goodbye, whoever you are. It was, um...interesting meeting you."
Jake didn't move as they stepped around him. What more could he say or do? This had never been a planned part of his itinerary anyway. He had bigger fish to fry than pursuing some blond bimbo, regardless of how gorgeous she was. He could've offered her the world, instead of a creaky twenty year old recreational vehicle and a politically correct life and a dick that was probably as limp and soft as the guy's Pillsbury Doughboy belly. If that's what she wanted, then he could fucking have her.
Jake followed his bladder's bidding back into the building, this time choosing the correct restroom. After peeing like a good little girl, he ordered an extra-meat roast beef foot-long at the Subway restaurant before heading back to the mechanic for what he hoped was good news. Yet he had a feeling his day was not about to get any better.
The owner, Rick Dantley, greeted Jake in his office with the commiserative smile of an undertaker and handed him several sheets of paper.
"The first estimate is for basic repairs," he said. "Things that I believe need to be done. The second estimate includes those
items plus repairs that could save you from potential breakdowns in the future."
The first estimate was for $1502. 78, which called for new steering linkages from the outer tie rods all the way to the idler arm and pitman arm... even a new power steering box. Quite a lot of profit, Jake thought acidly, considering none of it except the steering column link actually needed to be replaced. The rest was in perfect repair – maybe twenty thousand miles on them, if that. The second estimate was even more outlandish: the complete steering linkage package plus a new radiator – the note said something about a "ding" from a "rock" – along with new hoses. And as if that wasn't enough, the second estimate recommended replacing the V-belt as a "preventative measure," since it "showed some signs of wear."
While Jake perused the documents with a shaking head and a disbelieving scowl, another, younger, mechanic with greasy, disheveled black hair and a thick goatee joined them. He slouched on a chair by the owner's desk, eyes lazily shifting from Jake's chest to his face and back again, smirking as if he found him or the situation too amusing for words. Jake experienced a sharp urge to smack that smirk off his redneck face.
Instead, he shuffled the pages together and set them on the metal desk in a neat stack. Dantley smiled at him expectantly. His smirking underling continued to ogle his chest.
"First, I should probably tell you something about myself," said Jake. "I'm a professional mechanic, going on twelve years. Worked for my old man at his shop since I was fourteen, then joined the Marines at eighteen and was what they call an Automotive Organizational Mechanic for another seven years. I now run my own shop in Sacramento."
Dantley's eyebrows rose. "You were a Marine mechanic and now you own a car repair shop?"
"Must be an echo in here. Yeah, that's right."
"I am woman, hear me roar," the younger mechanic snickered.
"You're serious?" Dantley asked.
"As a fucking heartbeat."
Dantley's eyebrows rose some more. So did his younger partner's.
"Don't mean no offense, young lady. Just don't know many women who've done that."
"Specially someone who looks like you," his partner added.
"You don't think a hot woman could work on cars or be a Marine?"
Dantley raised the palms of his hands. "Not sayin' that. We all believe in women's equality here, don't we, Dwayne?"
"Heck, yeah. I'm a practically a femninazi."
"I know a few female Marines who could kick your skinny ass. Including the one sitting in this chair."
"Girl looks like you, I might even let her."
"No 'letting' would be involved." Jake was rising out of his chair. He'd planned to keep things cool, but this prick was starting to get to him.
"Ooo, looks like someone's PMSing." Dwayne threw up his hands in mock terror. "Loretta Tomlinson save us!"
"All right." Dantley made a calming motion. "Dwayne, your break just ended. Go back in the garage and let me handle things here." He waited while his employee slunk out of the office. "I apologize, Miss Wells. So you're an auto mechanic. And a former Marine. Thank you for your service to our country, by the way."
"Yeah. Sure thing."
"So about the estimates...?"
"Knowing I'm a professional mechanic who rebuilt that car from the ground up, what would you guess I think about your estimates?"
The owner shifted his body a bit behind his desk, his pleasant smile wilting. "You think the charges are too high?"
"Since the only broken linkage is in the steering calm and every other part is in prime condition, I'd say, yeah, the charges might be a little high."
"You're saying I'm trying to rip you off?"
"You're goddamn right that's what I'm saying."
"I'm not gonna stand for being called a liar. Or being sworn at. Didn't your mother teach you that's unlady-like?"
"I'm about to show you how unlady-like I can become."
"Look, I've heard about enough. I'm going to ask you to take your business elsewhere."
Jake made himself relax back in his seat. Play it cool, he told himself. The last thing he needed was the cops all over his ass now. And he imagined, given the excuse, they'd be standing in line to do that.
So he simply stared at the proprietor, his hands folded over one knee – the very picture of proper ladyhood, he thought – making no motion to leave his chair. The second hand on the wall clock over Dantley's head clicked along its slow orbit.
"I have another idea," said Jake in a quiet voice. "You're going to repair the one broken link in the steering column and charge me a very fair rate plus a generous discount for my being a fellow professional auto mechanic. You'll order the part now and have it over-nighted, doing the repair first thing tomorrow morning before you do any other work."
"Lady, I think you're dreaming."
"My dreams might be your worst nightmare."
"Okay." Dantley pushed back from his chair. "I need to get back to work. You have a real nice day."
Jake reached across the table and picked up a large block piston that was being used as a paperweight. He balanced it in one hand.
"6.7 Cummins turbo diesel, 2013," he said.
Surprise flashed in Dantley's eyes. "That's right."
Jake started to squeeze. The piston glowed and softened around his fingers. It was like molding warm clay. An orange light reflected off the desk and on Dantley's suddenly sweating face.
"What...? What the hell are you doing?"
He jerked back as Jake lowered the piston and rolled it across the table toward him, causing one of the papers to smoke and flare up in small flames. Without thinking, Jake reached over and extinguished the flames with a slap of his hand.
Dantley jumped up, his chair flying backwards and landing on its back. Jake sat back and smiled.
"Just imagine what I could do if I had your nuts in my grip."
The mechanic's Adam's apple bobbed. "Who...what are you?"
"Just someone who wants a little professional courtesy. What do you say?"
"I'm thinking I might just call the police."
"You could do that. And I might just tell them you're sexually harassing me. Who do you think they'd believe?" Usually, Jake was inclined to punch people who spoke of "sexual harassment," but these weren't usual circumstances. "Or I might do something I've been wanting to do since I read your bullshit estimates: break off your fucking fingers one at a time and jam them up your skinny ass."
Jake caught a reflection of himself in a glass parts display case at one side of the room. It was strange to see those words coming from Jenna's sweetly smiling lips and her innocent, heartrendingly beautiful face. Hell, it kind of creeped him out and he was the one saying those words.
Dantley stood by his desk, frozen in time and space, occupying his own private Twilight Zone, Jake guessed. Welcome to the club, asshole. Jake decided not to say a word. Let him make his choice.
"All right," Dantley said in a muffled voice. "All right. I don't know what your story is, and something tells me I don't want to know. All I know is this isn't worth the aggravation. I'll fix your damn car."
Chapter 22
JAMIE WAS DREAMING ABOUT Dennis, Kylee, and her playing on the shores of Mirror Lake in the Wisconsin Dells, and then awakened to a rustling of covers and a soft "Hey."
Jamie sat up, covers flying off the bed. Dennis stood by the dresser, giving her a chagrined smile.
"You're back," she breathed out. "Finally."
"Yeah. You could say I took the scenic route back."
Jamie slid out of bed and rose into his arms. She knew instantly he was stronger, much stronger, than he'd been before. Still, she reined in her impulse to squeeze him within a centimeter of his life. They kissed, and his mouth tasted good. She wanted more and so did he. But she leaned back to peer into his eyes.
"What happened?" she asked. "I mean, we know you teleported. And we knew you were okay. But..."
"I'm glad you figured that out. How did you know I was
okay?"
"Our resident psychic." Jamie nodded to the guest room. "She implied there was some unpleasantness."
"Oh, yeah." A hint of pain in his chuckle. "At times, it reminded me of my one acid trip in college. The worst part is that a few times I was almost here, close enough to touch it, and something would throw me off course. Teleportation should definitely come with a training manual."
"That's what I've been saying about everything super-powered." Jamie held his hand, giving him a tearful smile. "But you're home, now. I guess you figured it out."
"To a degree. It's definitely a skill where less is more. I learned to start slow and easy and not force things. You push a little and you get a big result."
"I think I get what you're saying. It was a big push that sent me to this universe, by the way."
"I remember." Dennis ran his fingers through her hair, his gaze filled with longing and tenderness. "You know, I'm not even sure how long I've been gone."
"This would be the fourth day. But it seems like forever."
"What have I missed? What happened with the people you 'turned' – your dad, Tildie, that military guy? The Asian psychic? Terry Mayes?"
"Tildie's here, after some drama with the U.S. Air Force, with about the same powers she had in my world as far as I can tell, except she can't see a few seconds into the future. Terry's doing well – don't know what his abilities are. My dad is here, staying in a motel. He has an ability I've never seen or heard of: he can duplicate things...and people."
"He can duplicate people?"
"Yeah. It's pretty freaky. He's only done it once, which he really regrets, because apparently it can't be undone."
"Jeez. And I thought teleportation was tricky."
"Kim-Ly – the 'Asian psychic' – is here, sharing a room with Tildie. She seems to have the same level of abilities that she had in my world." Jamie frowned. "Not sure about Jake Culler, the ex-Marine from Sacramento. Haven't heard from him. Though Kim-Ly says that he and one other person will be arriving soon from the West. I also haven't heard anything from President Tomlinson or Nate Andrews or anyone in the government."
"I'd guess they're testing out everyone who sampled your tears, seeing what they've got."
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