Minders

by Michele Jaffe

  Intense emotion, Sadie repeated and shuddered at the memory of the clawing, suffocating darkness of his anger.

  If it was after eight now, she’d been in Syncsleep for at least four hours. During that time, Ford had been at work doing—

  He hadn’t been at work, she realized, at least not when she was awake. Which meant he was lying. To the person who was presumably his girlfriend—Cali, Sadie remembered, adding it to the list of his associates’ names in her mental notebook.

  So you’re a liar, Ford Winter, she thought with a twinge of disgust, before reminding herself that she was supposed to be objective.

  Maybe the lying accounted for the dusty quality of his thoughts, a sort of film between him and reality. Tying it in with the way things dimmed when someone was bluffing, she added Lying interferes with vision to her mental notebook.

  Cali was sitting on the arm of the sofa, with Ford standing between her legs. He pulled her toward him and kissed her forehead. Her eyes closed, but his stayed open, giving Sadie a chance to look around.

  The room they were in was small, with a single window in the same wall as the front door. The walls were light blue, the carpeting beige. An old wooden footlocker served as a coffee table, which, with the navy slipcovered sofa, gave the room a sort of a nautical feeling. Behind the couch was a short hallway that led, presumably, to the bedrooms and bathrooms. The wall facing the couch had a wide arch opening into the kitchen, and half of a bricked-up fireplace mantel. The other half, along with part of the plaster medallion in the ceiling, disappeared into the wall.

  Between the arch and the fireplace hung a medium-sized television showing Cookie Wars Deluxe, the picture completely framed with Ad-Spaces. Like everyone in their neighborhood, Sadie’s parents paid to outsource their ad watching to other people so their content was always ad-free. Intellectually she understood that gave other people the chance to watch extra ads in exchange for less expensive television, but she’d never considered what that really meant until now. The Winters’ television screen was so crowded with Ad-Spaces that it took Sadie a moment to find the small rectangle showing Team Chocolate Chip going up against Team Snickerdoodle in the Cookie Wars Championship among the promos.

  Sadie was fascinated and had to suppress a momentary feeling of frustration when Cali pulled away from the kiss and Ford shifted his attention to her.

  Cali was blond and pretty, although Sadie thought she would have been prettier with less makeup, less TanTerrific, and less of the unnatural glossiness that straightening tubes imparted to hair. Especially since studies suggested they caused cancer. She wore a white button-down shirt that strained over a white lace-edged bra.

  Ford’s eyes focused on the bra as he curled a strand of the carefully straightened hair around his finger and said, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” That, at least, seemed true, because his vision didn’t get hazier. Sadie noticed there were cuts on his hand that hadn’t been there before. What had happened after she passed out?

  Cali reached up and took his hand, moving it from her hair. “That’s okay. It gave me a chance to keep Lulu company.”

  “Thanks, babe.” His hips rested between her legs, and his nose touched hers.

  Cali started talking about plans for the rest of the week, and Ford’s mind filled with dots. They arranged themselves into a flurry of images—leaving the poker table, walking out of the Castle, staring at a bank machine screen that read INSUFFICIENT CREDIT. Bashing his hand against the wall next to it. Explains the new cuts, Sadie thought.

  The dots got smaller as the memories went on, giving them a tense, brittle kind of clarity: him opening his wallet and painstakingly counting out bills—ones mostly, a few fives and tens, presumably his poker winnings—ending with only two singles left over. Dropping the wad of bills into a mailbox with a notice next to it that read, ALL RENT MUST BE PAID IN FULL BY 8 A.M. EVERY MONDAY OR TENANT WILL FACE IMMEDIATE EVICTION, with DON’T EVEN THINK OF ASKING FOR AN EXTENSION—THE LANDLORD, written in black pen along the bottom.

  “So you’re good with that?” Cali asked.

  Sadie had been listening while she watched Ford’s memories, but based on the way all the dots suddenly vanished and the sounds combined into a low hum, she realized he hadn’t heard anything Cali was saying.

  He nodded anyway. “Totally. Whatever works for you, works for me.”

  Why not just ask what she’s talking about? Sadie wondered. It would be so simple.

  “You’re the best,” Cali said, bringing her lips to his.

  He’s not, Sadie wanted to tell her. Ask him what he just said yes to.

  “No, you’re the best,” he told Cali.

  She rubbed his nose with hers. “No, you are.”

  Sadie groaned in frustration.

  From the couch behind them a high-pitched voice said, “Agree to disagree. I’m the best. And now that we have that settled, can you please stop? I’m only eleven and whatever you’re doing is far above my pay grade.”

  A golden Lab’s head came over the top of the couch to nuzzle Ford’s leg, and Sadie had the impossible thought that the dog had spoken. Then Cali shifted and Sadie saw that a little girl had come in and curled herself into the far corner of the sofa.

  She was as blond as Ford was dark, but had the same firm chin, the same stubborn mouth. The same very blue, very serious eyes.

  Ford laughed. “Sorry to disturb you, Princess Lulu.” He glanced at his Mickey Mouse watch. “Weren’t you supposed to be in bed half an hour ago?”

  Lulu pulled herself up to her whole four-foot height and said, “I don’t think I’m the one who needs to get a room.”

  “Is that really how you want to talk to your older brother?” Ford asked, a threat rumbling in his tone.

  Lulu put her hands on her hips. “Yes.”

  “Your strong, ferocious older brother?” he went on, narrowing his eyes.

  Lulu snorted. “Oh, right.”

  Sadie didn’t detect the kind of anger she’d felt at the Castle, but Ford’s tone was definitely menacing as he said, “You asked for it,” and lunged for the little girl.

  Stop him, Sadie wanted to yell at Cali. Don’t let him hurt—

  Ford snatched Lulu into his arms and started tickling her ribs. “Help!” Lulu cried through her giggles.

  Sadie was fascinated. Ford’s mindscape was radically changed from the windy place it had been at the Castle, the sounds in a completely different register and somehow slower, simpler. As if his thoughts and feelings for his sister were uncomplicated, Sadie noted.

  The dustiness of his conversation with Cali vanished as well, and instead of images the points of color were moving around freely, like people at a station waiting for their train to be called. His mind seemed pliant, flexible. Playful, Sadie thought, although that didn’t sound very scientific. She’d have to think of a better way to describe it when she was in front of the Committee.

  He lifted Lulu up and swung her over his shoulder. Sadie found herself laughing as Lulu protested, “That’s not fair, you’re bigger than I am, so you shouldn’t be able to use your arms, next time you can only use your feet, or maybe what if you just don’t bend your elbows and—”

  He paused to give Cali a kiss and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “No he won’t,” Lulu told her from behind Ford’s back as he carried her to the hallway. “I’m going to get him for this, I’m going to—”

  She went silent as they approached a partially open door on the left, and Ford’s mind filled with static that didn’t subside until they got to the door at the end of the hallway with a purple marker sign taped to it that said: PALACE OF PRINCESS LULU. NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION.

  “Permission to enter,” Ford asked on the threshold.

  “Permission granted,” Lulu told him. “But you have to read me a story.”

  “You can read yourself a story,” Ford said, flipping her onto her bed.

  Only the bedside light was on, but the room was small, so
it was enough to take in the bunk bed with pink comforters, an unfinished dollhouse, and two stacks of milk crates, one side holding neatly folded clothes and the other side holding books. The room was meticulously tidy. Sadie felt at home.

  Sadie hadn’t seen the dog follow them, but he nosed the door open, lumbered up onto the bed beside the girl, and sat looking at her expectantly.

  “See, Copernicus wants you to read to him,” Ford pointed out.

  Lulu rolled her eyes. “You just want to go make out with Cali.”

  “True,” Ford said. He bent over and looked under the bunk bed. “Nothing lurking,” he announced. “Good—”

  “Mom didn’t go to work again today.” Lulu’s voice was quiet and tense. “It’s the third week in a row.”

  Another burst of static. Dots of color collected into the image of the ATM screen saying INSUFFICIENT CREDIT in Ford’s mind. “I know. But I’m sure she’ll be better soon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because that’s what always happens. Don’t worry, okay?”

  Lulu nodded, her little face somber. She leaned toward him to whisper, “Could you look again? Just to be sure?”

  Ford put his finger to his lips. In one swift motion he dropped into a push-up position and peered under the bed.

  “Still no monsters,” he reported, standing back up. “No way they could have hidden that fast. You’re safe.”

  Lulu held up two dolls that appeared to be from the dollhouse and said, “Kiss Bless and Noshe good night.”

  Ford grabbed one of them and pretended to start making out with her, causing Lulu to squeal with laughter, then dropped the dolls and reached for her, and she squealed even more. Sadie tried to imagine what it would be like to have someone who made your mind relax the way Lulu made Ford’s.

  He gave his sister a soppy kiss on the forehead and was at the door when she spoke.

  “How come when Cali says ‘I love you’ you don’t say it back?”

  He stopped on the threshold and turned to face her, his mind staying even and unaffected. “I do.”

  “No you don’t,” Lulu told him. “You say ‘you too’ or ‘me too’ or ‘uh-huh.’”

  Ford laughed and turned back toward the door. “Agree to disagree.”

  Lulu narrowed her eyes. “That’s my line. You can’t just take it.”

  He pantomimed catching something in his fist midair, grinned, said, “Too late,” and shut the door.

  • • •

  Cali’s bare legs over the top of the couch, one ankle crossed over the other, were the first thing he noticed walking down the hall toward the living room, and the reaction in his body was immediate. Sadie felt his lower abdomen tighten and heard something that sounded almost like music in his head.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I made myself comfortable,” Cali said.

  He slid onto the couch next to her, his arm coming around to rest conveniently on her breast, his crotch against her leg. “You look like you might still be a little uncomfortable. Maybe you should get out of your shorts.”

  Cali laughed. “I was thinking, on Friday you could wear the blue checked shirt. You know, the one you were wearing the first time we met.”

  “Mmmm?” His lips roamed over the smooth skin along the base of Cali’s neck, and tiny clusters of sound and color broke loose in various parts of his mind, like dandelion seeds being blown free in a breeze, a momentary poof and then gone.

  During training Sadie had resolved to use any intimate time her Subject had to review her findings and take down new data, but now she found herself unable to break away. She felt the tension building inside of him as though it were inside of her, each trill and riff adding another layer. It was like having butterfly wings tease over her skin, making it tingle and prickle in the most exquisite and exquisitely distracting way. She let herself slip into it, willingly, even gratefully, breathless to find out what happened next—

  From very far away a voice said, “You know, the one you wore on our first date.”

  It had happened again, she realized—a world of experience in the space of a heartbeat. The music in his head stopped, the tickling evaporated, and Ford blinked his eyes open, saying, “Friday? What’s happening Friday?”

  Dinner with her friends, Sadie volunteered. Remember when you were too stubborn to ask what she was talking about? I guess we know who is the best now.

  Cali laughed and shimmied up him, setting off a momentary tinkling of bells. “Silly. Going out with Georgia and Clinton. We have a reservation at Trattoria Olivio.”

  The tightness in Ford’s lower abdomen shifted from pleasure to something more like pressure. “Sorry, babe, I have another commitment.” Sadie didn’t need the feeling of the lights suddenly dimming to know he was lying. Why do that? Why not just say “I don’t want to go”?

  Cali’s perfectly arced brows came together in a frown. “You told me you were free all weekend. You just said Friday was just fine.”

  “To see you,” Ford answered. “You didn’t tell me about Trattoria Olivio. You know I don’t like going to those frou-frou places.” His mind filled with pointillist images of bread sticks, a carafe of wine wrapped in straw, salad—

  “How would you know you don’t like it if you’ve never been?” Cali asked.

  Ford said, “It just seems stupid.”

  It didn’t seem stupid when you were picturing it just now, Sadie observed. Why would you say something so intentionally antagonistic?

  Cali pulled as far from him on the couch as she could. “Do you care about me? Love me? Because if you want to end this, you should do it now. It’s not fair to drag it out.”

  Ford sat up, the noise in his head spiking with surprise. “Whoa, where is this coming from? Because I don’t want to pay forty dollars for some crappy Italian food?”

  Cali took a deep breath and, like someone jumping off the high dive, said, “I got a new job.”

  Ford sat up even straighter. “A new job? You mean a promotion?”

  “No. A whole new job.” Another deep breath for courage. “I started interviewing in April, and I found out I got it on Friday.”

  “April?” Ford repeated incredulously. “You kept this from me for two months?” Sadie caught a whiff of the same bleachy scent she’d noticed at the Castle. Only she’d been wrong; there hadn’t been a cleaning crew, it was inside Ford’s head.

  “I was afraid of how you’d take it,” Cali said.

  “How should I take it?” Ford demanded. “I thought we were a couple. Now you tell me you’ve been looking for new jobs behind my back.” The smell of bleach got stronger. “What else have you been lying about?”

  “I didn’t lie.” Cali reached for him, but he pulled away from her hand, turning his back. From behind him she said, “The job is with CitCent Neighborhood Bank. I’ll be an executive assistant to one of the bankers. It’s a great opportunity, Ford. More money, more responsibility, chances for promotion. It’s a career, the way I always said I wanted. We’ll be able to get a place together, like Georgia and Clinton.”

  Say congratulations, Sadie urged. Tell her that’s great news and you’re excited for her.

  Ford’s mind flashed back to the imagined dinner scene with Georgia and Clinton, the dots forming pictures of dessert, tiny cups of coffee, the final bill. His wallet with the two dollars in it. It brought with it a rush of the same sticky, dirty sensation Sadie had noticed at the Castle.

  He turned to face Cali and said, “You know what they call executive assistants? Work mistresses. They’ll screw you but they won’t promote you.”

  Or you could say that.

  Cali’s lower lip was trembling. “Ford, don’t act this way.”

  “I’m just telling you the truth. Would you rather I lied to you and said you were off to a great start, your future looks bright?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not comfortable lying to the people I love.”

  Seriously, Mr. Ice? You’re not comfortable lying? Careful yo
u don’t slip and lose your tenuous hold on the moral high ground.

  “I’d hoped you could be happy for me and not need to lie.” Cali sighed. “But I guess I already knew that’s not how it would go.”

  Ford blinked, and dots of brown, yellow, magenta, blue, and beige formed a very faint elevator carrying Cali dressed like Kansas had been that day, surrounded by men in business suits with bulging wallets eyeing her cleavage. “I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”

  He’s deliberately provoking her, Sadie realized. As if he wanted to fight, wanted to make it escalate.

  “You’re twisting everything around,” Cali whimpered.

  “I’m just listening to you. Isn’t that what you want? And you know what, babe? You’re right. You deserve better than me.”

  That’s a neat magic trick, Sadie thought. Turning from the person in the wrong into the person who was wronged. What’s next? Pulling a rabbit out of a hat?

  “I don’t want better, I want you,” Cali said, falling for the trick. “I just want you to be happy. You used to be, but now—it seems like you never are.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not happy, Cali,” he said. “It’s just that my brother is dead and my girlfriend is a liar.”

  Cali’s mouth made an O, and she froze like she’d been stabbed in the stomach. Oh, I see. Your next trick is cutting the woman in half.

  The tears started down Cali’s cheeks, streaking her mascara, and she didn’t even lift a hand to smooth them away. “I’m gonna go.”

  Followed by making her disappear.

  At the door, Cali faced him. “Is this—are we—?”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said, half closing his eyes. “Soon.”

  I’ll be in touch. Sadie heard the echo of Pete’s words the night before, and worked to push it away. The point of this fellowship was to experience someone else’s life, not her own.