Hybrid Zone Recognition

by C. E. Glines

  “Welcome, Dr. Greer. Please come in and forgive the intrusion, but I have some details to go over with you before you turn in for the evening. I have also been apprised of your nutritional needs,” she said, motioning towards the table between her and an unoccupied chair.

  On the table were a couple of platters with meats, cheeses, breads, fruit and a lonely can of soda.

  “Was the apprising your doing?” I asked, looking back at Catman as I stepped into the room.

  He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and one foot braced against the trim, watching me intently. What did he expect me to do? Fall on the trays and devour them? I wasn’t a food vampire. I just liked to eat. It might have had something to do with a shortage of food growing up, but I wasn’t going to psychoanalyze it.

  “What?” I asked in irritation when he continued to stare.

  He lowered his foot and uncrossed his arms. “Enjoy your shower,” was all he said as he turned to leave.

  Why did he have that look on his face?

  I frowned and walked back to the door. Peering down the hallway, I watched until he turned a corner, putting him out of sight. I didn’t know what the look meant, but I didn’t think it was good. Catman was mysterious.

  I supposed I’d have to learn his name eventually. I’d make it my mission. Something to look forward to tomorrow.

  “Everything alright?” Ms. Needham called softly.

  I closed the door and turned my attention back to the room and its contents. “Hunky Dory,” I said without emotion.

  This was one weird kidnapping. Totally not what I would have expected. Not that I had dreams about being kidnapped. But I was pretty sure that if I did, private jets and mansions wouldn’t have been a part of them.

  I slid into the chair opposite her and started making myself a sandwich. “So, what are these details I need to know?”

  She picked up a notepad and flipped the page. “For starters, once I leave this room, you will not be allowed to leave until I come to retrieve you in the morning.”

  I had a new mission, to make that notepad mine.

  I rearranged my sandwich, adding a good deal more cheese to one side and then carefully cut the sandwich in half.

  “No nighttime escapades. Got it,” I said.

  She checked off the first item on her list, and then she noticed me eyeing the notepad. “I like to make actual physical lists that I can have with me. That way I don’t forget anything. I know I could do it on a tablet device,” she shrugged, “but I just haven’t made the transition yet.”

  Whatever. I was only interested in divesting her of the notepad, not her reasoning behind it. I was counting on the hope that she, like me, hadn’t eaten yet.

  “What’s next?” I said through a mouthful of pastrami and Colby Jack.

  “This will be your suite for the duration of your stay here. You are free to go into any of the rooms in this suite. If you need anything, you can ring the—”

  “How many rooms does it have?” I was curious. I’d never stayed in a suite in a mansion before.

  “There are six rooms in this suite. This one, the bedroom, bathroom, exercise, office and a casual living area that has a small kitchen.”

  Just like an apartment, and had she rattled that off rather quickly?

  “As I was saying, if you need anything, there is a list of phone numbers by the house phone that tells you who to call for whatever you need.”

  “Where is the house phone?”

  “In the office.”

  “Which is where?”

  She looked up from her list, irritation clearly written on her face. I suppressed the urge to smile at her. She was getting grouchy, and her words had lost that professional detachment. Also, just as hoped, her eyes were greedily following my sandwich as I took another bite. Can’t say I was too impressed with the lack of priority they attached to eating around here.

  I waved the other half of my sandwich in front of her, drawing her angered attention back to my face. “I’ll trade you this half of sandwich for your notepad.”

  She didn’t hesitate. She ripped off the front page and pushed the notepad over while simultaneously grabbing the proffered sandwich. “Thank God,” she mewed. “I’m starving.”

  “I noticed that the Clones never seemed to eat. Don’t they feed ya’ll?”

  She barked out a laugh, sending a piece of pastrami flying. “Clones. Too true.” She swallowed and took another bite. “Oh, they eat,” she garbled. “A lot. Just maybe not at regular intervals. You’ll see.”

  “Will I?” I studied her face, searching for any clue as to the reason I was here.

  “Yes, I think you will,” she said as she continued to eat her sandwich, albeit not as fast as she had in the beginning. Little gummy was it?

  Back on task, she returned to her list. “There are clothes in the closet. Everything you need should be there and in your size.” She was visibly struggling now. “But if you don’t find something you need…”

  I couldn’t make out that last part. “What?” I asked innocently. I had to work to keep the smile off my face as I popped the top on my soda.

  She quirked her eyebrow at me. Could everyone do that here?

  “Trade you the soda for your pen.”

  She put her hand over her mouth as she put effort into plying her jaws apart. The cheese worked better than I had anticipated. Granted, the ratio of pastrami to cheese on her sandwich was probably ten to one, but I hadn’t realized the difficulty it presented. I was just after her pen and paper, not her death.

  She coughed raggedly before swallowing, and then while smiling behind her hand, she managed to get out, “You’re a real tough negotiator.”

  I could tell she meant the exact opposite, but she handed me the pen, and I handed her the soda. Maybe I wasn’t the best negotiator. But I knew enough to pile the cheese on her half of the sandwich so that she would most definitely need a source of liquid, and I got what I was after. I’d call that a success.

  “So what else is on the list?” I asked when I thought she’d recovered enough to continue.

  She was currently swishing the soda around her mouth in an effort to thin the layers of cheese glued to her teeth. She flipped the list around and pushed it towards me.

  I was going to have to rethink the elegance I had attributed to her when we’d first met. She was appearing less and less elegant with every second that passed. Since I myself made no claim to elegance, I much preferred her this way.

  I scanned down her list and checked off her number four and five. Reading further, I went through the next items. Wake up call at six a.m. She would be escorting me to the Director at seven a.m. sharp. Wear a suit.

  I lifted my eyes from the list to find her disassembling her sandwich. She had given up eating the sandwich as a whole and was peeling the layers off and eating them separately. Now this was the portrayal of a woman I could respect, letting nothing come between her and her food.

  I tapped the offending note with the pen. “You do not trust me to dress appropriately?”

  She paused with a wad of pastrami between her fingers. “At this point, your actions still reflect on me. I thought I’d cover my bases.” Then unashamedly, she popped the chunk into her mouth.

  Looking into her eyes, I could discern her unspoken comment that she knew what my preferred attire was, and it wasn’t a suit.

  “And, there’s the fact that you have a tendency to be a little…unpredictable?”

  Was she commenting or asking? I couldn’t tell as I glared at her. I wouldn’t characterize myself as unpredictable. I just liked to do things the way I wanted to.

  “Is stubborn a better word?” she asked as if she already knew the answer.

  I’d been called that a time or two, or more. But who, when given the choice, would choose to wear a suit over jeans?

  I shifted my eyes to the page for one last look. “Alrighty then, I think we’re done with the official welcome.
” And insult, I added silently.

  “Actually, that won’t come until after we know your status here.”

  That was an interesting choice of words. “Do I have a choice in my status?”

  “There are always choices. Do you have any questions related to what we have gone over?”

  “Let me guess, if I say no, then we are done for the evening.”

  She swiped one of the provided napkins and wiped her face and hands. Scooting her chair back, she started gathering her stuff. “As I’ve said, you do learn quickly, Dr. Greer.”

  Just for that, I wasn’t telling her she missed a good size piece of Colby Jack stuck to the side of her face. Instead, I smiled and said, “I do my best.” Doing my best not to stare at the Colby Jack, I clarified my previous statement. “When I want to.”

  She scooped up her brief case and walked towards the door. As she reached for the handle, she turned and looked me in the eye. “Let’s hope your best is good enough.”

  That sounded ominous.

  “Good night, Dr. Greer.”

  “Good night, Ms. Needham.”

  She pulled the door closed behind her, and I pressed my ear against it. Her heels clicked loudly on the tile floor and then faded to a stop. I heard a soft male voice, then her irritated growl. The guard must have pointed it out to her.

  Her raised voice quickly followed her growl. “Two can play that game, Dr. Greer. Sleep tight.”

  Uh oh. I hoped I hadn’t bitten off more than I could chew. The irony of that thought, more than I could chew, caused me to shake with laughter. I never would have bet being kidnapped could be so much fun.

  Wiping tears from my eyes, I walked over and picked up the pen and notepad. It was time to get to work and, more importantly, to take a shower. With essential writing instruments in hand, I opened the pocket doors leading to the rest of the suite.

  Immediately after the receiving room was the casual living area Ms. Needham had described. There were three doors leading out of this room, two to the left and one to the right. I chose the first door on the left. It contained a nicely equipped exercise room. The second door opened to reveal quite a large bedroom that included lots of soft yellows and bright reds.

  I tossed the notepad and pen on the bed and walked towards the bathroom that I could see through a large archway on the other side of the room. Feeling for the light switch, I found it and flipped it on.

  “Goodness,” I breathed.

  It looked like some sort of Roman era bath. It was huge with marble everywhere. The tub by itself took up one entire wall, and there were stairs I would have to climb to get into it. And, I guess that was the shower?

  Entering the bathroom, I came to a stop in front of a glass contraption. It did not fit the old world theme at all. The back wall had a large control panel with the word NOLA engraved in its center. Surrounding it were all kinds of nozzles and gadgets with even more spaced irregularly throughout the shower. Some of them looked like they had moving parts.

  I stood there baffled, wondering whether I should put me or my dishes in. Stepping inside, I studied the controls, but I didn’t know what the various terminologies meant. I’d never encountered a shower like this before.

  “This should come with a warning label. Must have license to operate.”

  I reached my hand towards the controls and heard a whoosh behind me. Turning swiftly, I found that I was sealed in. Oops, it also came equipped with an overly sensitive touchpad. I pressed against the glass door that had appeared out of nowhere, but nothing happened.

  “NOLA activated,” said a creepy female computer voice from the control panel.

  “What the...” I spun back around to face the control panel. I hurriedly searched for a button controlling the door, but I found none. There were just numbers and unfamiliar symbols.

  “Open the door, NOLA,” I demanded. Nothing happened. “NOLA, open the door,” I tried again. Why wasn’t there an exit button or an off switch? “Don’t make me count to ten,” I threatened under my breath.

  “Cycle ten engaged.”

  Oh, that she could hear.

  My eyes widened as various attachments began whirring and spinning. I backed up giving them plenty of room as they gained speed. When they started moving towards me, I whipped around and began to pound on the glass while yelling, “Let me out!”

  Water began shooting at me from every direction. Who puts shower jets in the floor! And it was HOT! “Hot, Hot!” I sputtered through the water hitting my face.

  “Temperature increased.”

  No, no, no. “Temperature decrease, temperature decrease!” I yelled.

  “Temperature returned to normal level.”

  I turned around to face her. Maybe if I could grab one of the attachments moving towards me, I could use it to break the glass. I lunged for the nearest nozzle and pulled. It slid free of the wall, and I turned to slam it against the door.

  Before I could, my head suddenly yanked to one side, almost pulling me off my feet. In the effort to stay upright, I dropped the captured nozzle.

  Did she just grab my hair? My head snapped back in the opposite direction. Oh, no she didn’t!

  “Let go of my hair!” I shouted while trying to wrestle my hair out of her little metal hand thingies. “Bad NOLA!”

  I strained with the effort against her, but she was too strong and too quick. I had managed to free only a single clump of hair when white foam began to cascade down my body.

  Oh goodie, soap. I’d been worrying this was a rinse only cycle. I hoped I could get out before the hot wax started.

  Along with my head being jerked from side to side by NOLA, I now had the added pleasure of being covered entirely in bubbles. I gasped and spit as the cascade of soap seemed to have no end. “No more soap,” I moaned.

  “More soap,” NOLA repeated.

  NOLA was E-vil.

  I could barely breathe through all the flowery smelling soap. This was like a car wash but for people. I wondered if this was how they’d find me in the morning. Drowned while standing up in the shower and still fully clothed.

  Having abandoned my attempt to free my hair, I just tried to remain standing, which was harder than it should have been for some reason. It didn’t take long to figure out that certain parts of the floor were moving. Of course they were. What else could I expect from a bubble bath fun house?

  NOLA’s hands were now moving so fast that it felt like my head was going to vibrate off my shoulders. I reached up to steady it and something ripped. I thought it was my shirt. And what the heck was hitting my legs!

  I couldn’t see anything past the curtain of bubbles I wore, which explained why I didn’t see whatever it was that slammed me against the glass.

  “Oww! Bad NOLA, Bad NOLA! Stop. The. Shower!”

  “Voice command not recognized.”

  Not recognized! “Cancel. Deactivate. Abort!” I shrieked desperately.

  “Cycle ten aborted. NOLA deactivated.”

  The same glass panel that had sealed me in, the one I was also currently plastered against, abruptly disappeared. I fell out.

  I never knew marble was so slippery when wet.

  I skidded across the floor on my side and then crashed into the tub which spun me completely around. My three-sixty left me seated on my bottom with my legs stuck straight out in front of me. The first thing I noticed was my right shoe was missing. NOLA ate my shoe.

  I sincerely hoped she choked on it.

  I sat there in stunned silence. Had that really just happened? I was beat up by a shower? As the shock wore off, I tried to assess the extent of the damage. I didn’t think I was hurt too bad, except for maybe my head and my eyes that were burning something fierce.

  I swiped at the foamy lather attacking my eyes and slowly stood to my feet. Stepping over the Macy shaped outline of bubbles on the floor, I cautiously approached the sink. Eyeing it as best I could, I searched for any enemy controls. It looked like only the normal levers I would associate
with a sink. I didn’t see any gadgets or control panels, but I was not going to be fooled again.

  Very gently, I pulled the nearest faucet lever towards me. “Just give Mama a little cold water,” I pleaded.

  Not coming any closer, I watched as the water flowed down the sink. When I was certain that it was just a normal sink with a normal faucet, I began getting the soap off my face and out of my eyes.

  Grabbing a hand towel, I went to stand in front of the full length mirror next to the tub. I looked like I had been through a hurricane. My hair was sticking out every which way. There was also a big red spot on my forehead where a knot was rapidly forming. I moved the hair aside and leaned forward to inspect it a little closer. I wasn’t sure my bangs would be sufficient cover.

  Letting my hair drop back in place, I moved on to inspect my clothes. The shirt I had been wearing was barely recognizable. It had been a button up long sleeve. Now, one sleeve was ripped off entirely and pooled around my wrist. The other had a long gash in it. The top half of the buttons had been ripped off and it was split up the back. Amazingly though, it was still tucked into my jeans.

  The right half of the belt loops on my jeans stuck straight out and they were stiff, like they’d been starched or something. Various rips and tears decorated the rest of my jeans until I reached the knees. Then, they were just shredded.

  I took a deep breath, nearly gagging on the smell of roses coming from the soap. I seriously needed to rinse the rest of the soap off. Cutting my eyes in the direction of the monstrous tub, I regarded another potential foe. After a moment, I decided I just couldn’t do it. I was not up to any more fights with plumbing tonight.

  Instead, I opted for the known quantity, the nice normal sink. The sink was safe. The sink was my friend. Good thing the sink was deep. I had a lot of hair.

  Having rinsed off the majority of the soap, I stood wrapped in a towel, staring at myself in the mirror again. Should I get ice for my head? Unless the goose egg shrank a lot, my bangs were not going to hide this.

  Finding my eyes in the mirror again, I smiled at my reflection. “Well, Mace,” I said to myself, “you survived the shower from hell. If that’s the worst they throw at you, you’ll be fine.”