The Life We Lead: Ascending

by George Nagle

  Damn. I should have made Tim a set of flash cards with pictures. Apparently that solved things instantly. James laughed internally.

  Aside from Tim getting overly excited about having a Coke on the plane with a small bag of pretzels, the rest of the short flight went well. Thankfully, the airport hotel was a mirror image of the picture they’d seen in the magazine on the plane. Tim drew a picture of what he thought the rest would look like, but wouldn’t show James until they had checked in.

  “Jim, this is an incredible drawing you’ve made of the lobby!” James stood at the desk in the room they were sharing, gazing with astonishment at Tim’s picture. “How did you know what the 360-degree view would be like from just one side of the lobby in that picture?”

  “The magazine had an outside and inside picture. I see it and draw it from my internal eyes. It’s all there. You just have to see.” Tim was trying to organize his bathroom supplies and seemed to be confused by the toiletries already there.

  James explained that it was okay for these toiletries to be there. Tim didn’t seem to agree, and he put them in another bag to give to Byron and Dan as a present. He kept the mouthwash out of the bag, as it was a “cool looking” color.

  A short while later, James discovered that Tim snored.

  Correction. It wasn’t just a snore, but a snore with a gargling sound.

  James sighed. He was a poor sleeper to begin with, so this was going to be a long night and an even longer trip than he’d expected, since he didn’t sleep on planes.

  “The lights aren’t on. The lights aren’t on. The lights are not on!”

  James’s eyes snapped open.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “The lights aren’t on. Why aren’t the lights on? It’s time to get up and the lights should be on.” Tim was speaking fast.

  “Right. One second,” James fought the entanglement of blanket and pillows for a moment before freeing his right hand and turning over to hit the light. He saw the clock flashing 6 a.m.

  Tim’s internal clock was apparently set for that time, and the lights in his room were probably set to automatically turn on then, too. James sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Oh, wait, what time does Jim get up? We did not discuss that.” Tim peered at James while sitting upright in bed with a perfectly contented expression on his face.

  James chuckled a little.

  “What’s so funny? Are you going to answer me on what time Jim, I mean me, I mean I … I … I …” Tim began to shake.

  “Jim gets up when he needs to,” James said. “He doesn’t have to have the lights on. Jim doesn’t have to eat at the same time each day. He eats when he’s hungry, or can eat. He showers if and when he can or wants to. Jim doesn’t shake or talk fast when he’s scared or nervous or unsure. He sits still and smiles.” James said this with a deadpan voice, looking right into Tim’s face.

  “Until we get back to the house with Dan and Byron, you are Jim.”

  Tim stopped shaking and adopted the voice he seemed to have created for his alter ego.

  “We have to get going then. I am hungry and want breakfast, but I want a shower first.” He gave a small shudder and stopped. He got up with a smile and went to take a shower.

  The rest of the morning went perfectly well. Tim mostly smiled. Aside from checking his watch repeatedly, he acted perfectly normal. They left the hotel and boarded the plane for the first leg of the journey without any issues surfacing. In fact, the biggest issue was centered around the meal.

  “I am not hungry yet. I would like to eat in about fifteen minutes,” Tim said to the stewardess.

  James turned to look at him and let out a small sigh.

  “The chicken pasta, please,” Tim said to the stewardess. He made a small discrete face at James.

  The stewardess handed him a tray across James’s body and waited, but James was lost in thought, wondering what just happened.

  “She is waiting to hear what you want, dumb dumb,” Tim said, organizing his tray of food.

  “The same, thanks.”

  The stewardess gave James a slight smile and handed him a tray.

  James looked back at Tim and tossed his hands up as if to say, “What was all that?”

  Jim smiled slyly. “I sometimes have to eat when I can. It is the rules.”

  “Obviously,” James said, and they both laughed.

  ***

  In Istanbul, Jim had to have a hat, as apparently that was his “thing.” After finding the moneychanger, they got a hat and caught the second flight.

  James had always been amazed by the human body and the control the brain had on it. Tim functioned perfectly well as Jim and even caught and corrected small glitches he occasionally made. It was a little scary to see how effectively he was able to make the switch, but it was comforting, too.

  Tim liked the baggage claim area in Osh. “You can see how it works in parts. Very cool,” he commented.

  It was an older conveyor system and very different from those more commonly seen in the U.S. or in new airports.

  James stepped closer to Tim to explain, finishing with, “I still prefer my bags being handed to me at the airport and the valet handling all this.” He’d figured out that Tim, as Jim, was pretending to be a spoiled rich kid.

  Indeed, Tim was careful to move in what he clearly thought were “rich person” motions. As long as he was consistent, that was fine. In fact, had the situation not been what it was, his accentuated motions would have been rather funny.

  They got through customs easily, walked outside, and saw a number of individuals standing around with signs, including a man in a suit holding a sign that said “Ferguson/Mathers.” James waved at him.

  The man spoke. “I am Noi. My car is this way, sirs.”

  Noi led them to what looked like a semi-developed area, almost as if city zoning were trying to redefine it. A large black SUV with a driver was waiting for them. Climbing in, the interior was soft, white leather and the windows were tinted. The center had a mini-bar with a selection of magazines in the seat pockets; the one in front was The Economist.

  Noi sat in the front passenger seat and turned to engage them in conversation as the driver pulled away.

  “All of the arrangements for your stay are made based on the itinerary,” he said in a professional tone, as if he were a concierge. “Tomorrow, we will depart very early at 06:00 in the a.m., as we have a long drive, sirs. Please dress comfortably, but you may wish to bring a coat. We will have a vehicle exchange for the last part of the journey that will be a slightly less comfortable ride. Please feel free to help yourself to the refreshments in front of you, sirs.”

  He gave them a wide grin, exposing a gold tooth among a lot of yellow teeth. He also had a rather dehydrated, ashy look despite his fine clothes, which showed hints of yellow at the collar brim. He was a heavy smoker, judging by his rather pungent and honestly gross smell.

  He continued in his slightly twingy voice, “If it is acceptable, sirs, we will need to make a stop at my office. I apologize for this, as I know that you are tired in your travels, but it is needed, please. We can take care of the transaction and paperwork, yes?”

  James said, “That is fine,” as Tim was happily drinking another Coke. After a quick glance at James, Tim nodded too.

  The “office” turned out to be a car dealership. This was, by far, the leading car dealership for a significant distance around the area, and it offered a variety of high priced vehicles. As they drove around the lot, James noticed several cars in the back that didn’t seem to fit with the rest. They were new vehicles, but lower end cars. Then James saw a Spirit with writing on the windshield. The left side said, “SOLD” in English, and the right side appeared to be in Russian.

  Immediately to the right of the Spirit was a large fenced area with other vehicles that didn’t appear to belong. James didn’t have a clear view, but they looked to be older sport utility vehicles, some of which had been used b
y a military force, judging by the paint.

  Noi took them to his office, located at the back of the building and down a long hallway. The door to the hallway had a key code security system and mounted camera. The hallway itself had barren stone walls, a low ceiling of perhaps two meters, and an unusual floor, a mix of tile for about a meter and then floorboards. This pattern repeated itself the length of the hall and seemed to have notching at each of the junctures in the walls.

  The sound of their footsteps echoed loudly as they walked on the tile, and the floor creaked when they walked on the boards. James allowed his eyes to follow the baseboards and suspected sensors hidden at the notches.

  After graciously ushering James and Tim into the surprisingly spacious, lavish office, Noi shut the door and hit a button. Locks could be heard clicking into place, and a small monitor flicked on on Noi’s desk that James and Tim couldn’t see.

  “May I offer you some refreshment, or perhaps fresh fruit?” Noi asked, walking toward a bar area.

  Before Noi finished the word fruit, James spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Rasa, but no, we are fine.” James deliberately reached into his coat pocket and removed a few documents and the bond. Tim followed by removing his documents.

  One of the rules was for Tim to do whatever James did when it came to showing documents. Another was not to accept food or drinks if James had refused them and did not turn to ask Tim if he wanted some. The expectations set by the rules were working great so far.

  Noi gave his yellow smile and sat at his desk. Looking in a drawer, he found his tobacco and a lighter.

  Tim spoke up in his rich voice. “Please do not smoke near me. It is rather gross and poor for your health. And it is stinky.”

  James did not visibly react, but his insides froze for a split second.

  “Very sorry, sir. Very sorry. Please, I mean no disrespect, and yes, I will not smoke,” Noi said quickly. “Thank you for reminding me of manners to you, sirs.”

  James was relieved.

  This might just work perfectly. If these people are used to being spoken down to by rich jerks, then Tim’s small quirks will be easily dismissed.

  They sat for a moment as Noi gathered two sets of documents. They were the faxes of the passports James had sent previously.

  “Please, sirs, is this you?”

  “Yes,” James said.

  “Obviously,” said Tim. James moved his right hand to his knee. They had worked out a signal of James tapping his right knee with three quick but light slaps as a sign to be quiet unless very directly, by name, asked a question, which was different from what had just happened.

  Noi smiled, held out his hands, and said, “Yes, sirs. May I please see the originals?”

  They handed him the documents. He compared them, made a note on a piece of paper that they could not see, and scanned them before handing them back.

  “Please, sirs, come with me.”

  He had them stand against the far left wall before taking facing and profile pictures of them. As they finished, he took them to a countertop near the bar and slid a portion of the counter back to reveal a finger printing station.

  Luckily, this older method of finger printing would take days if not weeks to verify. Tim’s prints could link him to the assisted living institution and reveal his true identity. The probability of this group being able to access that information was extremely small, as it wasn’t part of a database even accessible by agencies in the U.S, but James would have Tim’s prints record deleted anyway, just in case. As for himself, he was wearing a false set of fingertips, so there was no problem there.

  Tim had wanted a “new” appearance like James, but Tim didn’t like the feeling of makeup, scars, or contacts, so they’d given him highlights in his hair like he’d seen in a movie. It didn’t change his appearance much, but it made Tim feel like it did.

  James had made his own ears appear pushed out and put putty across the bridge of his nose to make it appear wider and his eyes closer together. He wore contacts to give himself brown eyes and added a burn type scar to cover the back of his right hand and wrist.

  Noi provided rubbing alcohol to help remove the ink and they washed up in the sink to the right of the bar. After getting cleaned up, they returned to their seats.

  “Please, now the bond payment for ‘the car.’” Noi used his hands to make the symbol for quotation marks.

  James presented him with the bond, deciding he must watch a lot of American TV and movies.

  “Thank you, sir. Yes, this is all in order. I have documents for you to sign, please, and we will have your car ready for you in a few days’ time.” He pulled a stack of papers out of a drawer. “If you can please sign at each of the tabs, we will be all set, sirs.”

  James pulled the stack to him and began reading each of the documents.

  “Please, sir, they are standard agreements that I am sure you have signed before,” Noi said, noticing James was taking the time to read them.

  “I understand, but I read everything before I sign it,” James answered.

  “Oh yes, sir, of course. I mean no disrespect, sir. I know you must be very tired from the journey.” Noi was taken aback.

  “Yes, you have said that,” James said, slightly impatiently. He was taking Tim’s lead on acting pompous. Noi became quiet and began entering some information into a computer. Tim absentmindedly hummed some Michael Jackson music to himself, mixing the songs.

  The documents were all in English and truly were documents for a car sale. James quickly got through them.

  “Very good, Mr. Mathers, sir. Very good. Would you or Mr. Ferguson care to use the restroom before we depart?” Noi placed several documents in a small carrier with a picture of the bond he had taken as James finished signing.

  “No, we are ...” James began.

  “Yes,” Tim said. He stood up and began doing what looked like the pee dance.

  “Have to pee, cousin?” James asked.

  “Obviously,” Tim said as Noi unlocked the door and they walked into the hallway.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, after Tim had relieved his bladder and they’d enjoyed another comfortable car ride, they pulled up to a rather beautiful home.

  “Welcome, please, to my home, sirs. I trust you will be happy in your stay. We have Jacuzzi and sauna if you like. The cook will make you any foods you would like. My wife and mother will be happy to greet you. Your rooms share a bathroom if that is acceptable, but all the plumbing works,” Noi stated, turning in his seat to face them.

  The night went well. They enjoyed a nice dinner before heading upstairs for a good night’s sleep. Noi reminded them that they needed to leave at 6 a.m. and asked if they would like to join him for breakfast at 5:30. They agreed and headed to bed.

  When they got to Tim’s room, James noticed Tim was rather quiet and looked a bit put out.

  “Jim, are you okay?” James asked.

  “Very tired, Grant, very tired. I miss my bed and want my pajamas,” Tim replied. He was doing his best to stay in proper character.

  “Let’s get to bed, then,” James said, and they did just that following quick showers and all of the rest of the normal habits that gave Tim a sense of normalcy.

  When Tim was settled, James returned to his room and checked his voicemail messages.

  The first message was from his buddy and former roommate, Mark. “Dude, when are you off third shift? Want to play some basketball with everyone tonight? Call me back.”

  The second was from his mother wanting to know when he had a day off because his dad needed some help. James felt a twinge of guilt at not being able to help them out immediately.

  The third message was from Carissa. James listened to this message three times, letting her words roll over him.

  “Hey, saw that you called me, then. Not sure where you are, or what time it is, but I hope you are happy and doing well. Can’t wait tae speak with ya. Oh, and I told Judy about us. Anyway, talk soon, Love. Bye.”
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  James called Mark and his mom, telling them nothing of importance but assuring them he was fine. When he called Carissa, he was slightly sad to get her recording. He didn’t leave a message; he always felt he sounded like an idiot. She would at least see that he’d tried to call, and that counted, or at least he hoped it did.

  ***

  The next morning was rough when the knock came at the door. James was exhausted but got up. It was Noi himself.

  “Sorry sir, but it is 05:00. I thought you may want time to prepare, sir,” he said with his stained grin.

  “Yes, thank you. Have you woken Jim?” James asked.

  “He is awake already, sir. His light is on and there are noises from the room he is in,” Noi said.

  “Okay. Thank you. We will join you for breakfast.” James shut the door and went to check on Tim through the adjoining bathroom.

  “Good morning!” Tim said when James peered into his room. He had just finished dressing and was putting away his pajamas.

  “Hey, Jim. You are up and ready today, I see,” James yawned.

  “Yes, well, it is obviously five and time to be up. Plus, the bed is very soft and it was great to sleep in. I will have to try to get one like it when we are home. I mean, we can afford it.” He said the last part again as if he’d just remembered to be extra flashy.

  “Okay, please finish getting everything set and we will go eat and start the day. Remember, I’m not sure what will happen today. The only scheduled thing I know is the flight back. So far, things have been very good and we need to keep it that way. Noi said we will drive a long time today. It’s fine to bring your music, but please leave the coloring books and stuff here in your bag,” James said, setting some expectations.

  Tim nodded and went back to his packing.

  ***

  They departed on time and headed south. Four hours after their departure in the black SUV, they made a sharp turn while going around a bend. It looked like they were going over the edge of the road into a sudden drop off. Noi warned them a minute before they took the turn, but that didn’t prevent the feeling of shock as it happened. Tim started to shake, but the transition was remarkably smooth, aside from that little drop in the stomach.