“My parents,” Jaden started, “my real parents. They’ll look for me,” Jaden said, hoping.
Dalton smiled with pity. “I almost wish that were true. You know it isn’t. I’m not afraid of anyone finding you here. Your life will be easier if you accept this is where you live, and no one is looking for you.”
Easier? Heat rose to Jaden’s face and his temper flared. “Easier?”
“Yes,” Dalton said. “If you do what I say, it will be much easier. The longer you fight, the harder and more painful it will be.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Jaden asked, his voice cracking. “Why am I here?”
Dalton was quiet for a moment. “Don’t you know?”
Jaden shook his head.
“You have a gift.” Dalton paced the length of the room. “You know that.”
“No,” Jaden said. “I’m a nobody.”
“Well, if I were a religious man I’d say you were a miracle.” Dalton glanced at him then continued pacing. “Your mind, your existence, has generated a special survival technique. It’s not unheard of, but it’s extremely rare, and no one knows how it works. We know the why, but the how is a mystery. You are special, Jaden. You must know that.”
Jaden tried looking confused, but he blushed.
Dalton chuckled under his breath. “It’s called psychokinesis. PK for short. It’s the mind’s ability to move things and manipulate matter. Most people think it’s a pseudoscience, the paranormal, or a mockery of what science really is. The cases are limited and the subjects temperamental. PK comes and goes, which makes it difficult to control. You discovered that the hard way, didn’t you?”
Jaden said nothing, he was too busy thinking.
Dalton continued. “You use it as a defense mechanism. It first set on when you were six, and saved your life. It probably would have vanished, but when you called it again it took a different form. I think the subconscious controls PK, which is why you can’t control what it does. When that family locked you in a closet, PK manifested into something so bizarre, outside help was required, and that saved you. PK remained with you, becoming stronger and more frequent should you need it again.”
There it was. The story of his life according to Dr. Dalton. In a nutshell. Dalton had the answers and apparently knew everything about Jaden. Denying the truth would be foolish. Now here he was, locked in a room much larger than a closet, but ultimately just as confining, with no way to defend himself.
“You’re here to learn how to control PK. Once you’ve learned how to use it, you’ll be able to do amazing things,” Dalton said, smiling.
“And then what?” Jaden asked.
Dalton tilted his head. “Pardon?”
“Then what happens? After I learn to control it, what happens next? You’ll let me out?”
“Maybe,” Dalton said, but Jaden knew he lied. Dalton subtly averted his eyes when he answered.
“Right,” Jaden said. “I’m not doing it. I won’t do anything for you. You can click your damn button all day long, electrocute me if you have to, but I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re not curious to see what can happen?” Dalton asked.
“I don’t want to be here,” Jaden said, crossing his arms. “I want you to let me go.”
Jaden’s stomach lurched with hunger, though he was not in an eating mood. Learning he was stuck here for the rest of his life was a depressing thought—his stomach didn’t care.
“Hungry?” Dalton asked. “We have a full kitchen.”
“I’m not eating anything.”
“I see. You’re going on a hunger strike?”
“Wow, you’re a lot smarter than you look,” Jaden said. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re a doctor, isn’t it? You’re a genius. Yes, I’m going on a hunger strike. I’ll starve to death if I have to.”
Dalton laughed again. It was grating on Jaden’s nerves. Was this a game to him? Was his life just a game?
“I’ll tell you what, Jaden, I’ll bring some food. I’ll even leave it here if you don’t want to eat right away. Make your decision and we can go from there.”
Jaden wanted to yell obscenities in his face but didn’t want another shock. He was not going to eat, no matter how hungry he became. If this was a test of wills, Jaden would be the victor. Dalton was not going to get the best of Jaden, he would not win.
“Fine,” Jaden said. “Go get it.”
“It’s coming,” Dalton said, and on cue, the steel door slid open and a second man, carrying a tray, entered the cell. He set the tray on the corner of the bed, looked at Jaden, and left.
“Thanks, Alan,” Dalton said, staring at Jaden. “Well, there you go, Jaden. Your meal is served. I hope, for both our sakes, you eat it.”
Dalton left.
Jaden glared at the door, avoiding the mirror. He knew he was being watched. Every movement he made was studied, he was sure of it. He looked at the food on the corner of the bed. Three fried eggs, hash browns, slices of ham and whole wheat toast with melted butter, with a tall plastic glass of orange juice to drink. His mouth watered, and he wanted so badly to eat. His stomach rumbled, pleading with him to pick up the fork and break the yokes and spread it around the toast.
Instead, Jaden carried the tray into the bathroom, dumped the food into the toilet, watched the toilet flush and splutter, was disappointed it didn’t clog, then returned the tray to the edge of the bed. He crawled onto the mattress and sat cross-legged, waiting.
A few minutes passed and Dalton returned. Jaden grinned at him.
“Aw, I missed you,” Jaden said. “I flushed it down the crapper.”
“Yes you did,” Dalton said, and he too was grinning. “I hoped you wouldn’t.”
“That’s life, isn’t it?” Jaden said. “You don’t always get what you hoped for. God, it’s so unfair, huh? You put so much effort into catching me, and I go and act like a prick, flushing your food down the toilet. God, that must piss you off,” Jaden said, throwing the tray at Dalton, who ducked, his grin unwavering. The tray hit the wall, the plastic glass of juice splashed everywhere.
“You’re going to make this hard, aren’t you?” Dalton asked.
“Yeah, I hope so.”
“Okay. Have a nice sleep.” Dalton left again, only this time he did not return moments later. The lights shut off, casting Jaden into silent darkness.
“Fuck you!” he yelled, but no one responded.
The dull buzzing light acted like a ringing alarm, waking Jaden. He must have fallen asleep. Squinting, he walked into the bathroom. Jaden wasn’t happy with whoever watched him pee from the other side of the mirror, but he had to go so bad he was beyond caring. It occurred to him, as the toilet was flushing, that he should have done it all over the mirror instead. Next time.
Jaden was thirsty and almost wished he hadn’t chucked the orange juice at Dalton. But if he was going to do this the proper, noble way, there would be no eating or drinking. Dalton was not going to win. The water faucet poured nothing for his dry throat.
He expected Dalton or one of his minions to arrive soon and offer breakfast. He paced for a while as he waited. When he tired of pacing, he sat on the edge of the bed. Then he paced again.
Maybe hours passed, he wasn’t sure. No one came. His stomach roared at him, and his mouth was so dry it hurt. He wanted to throw more food down the toilet.
The lights went out, plunging him in darkness.
They’re playing mind games.
Fine. Let them play.
Jaden threw himself in bed and curled his blanket to his chin, closing his eyes but not sleeping. He wasn’t going to eat until they let him go. He wasn’t going to control his PK, it was his and his alone to do with as he saw fit, not for them to study. No matter how miserable or painful this got, he would not yield.
When it came down to it, Jaden was valuable to them. It’s why they went to so much trouble, for him to live here. They needed him. They wanted him.
Perhaps hours later th
e lights came on. Jaden did not get out of bed. That’s what they wanted him to do. Fuck that.
The door opened. Jaden did not see who entered. He kept the blanket pulled over his face, staying hidden.
“Hello?” called a voice. It wasn’t Dalton. Jaden heard the man walking on the padded floor, coming around to him. “Hello?”
Jaden pulled off the blanket and studied the man. He’d seen him yesterday. Well, what he assumed was yesterday. Dalton called him “Alan.” He was average height, muscular but not beefy. He had golden blonde hair and large, hound dog blue eyes. His arms were crossed, hands cupping elbows, and his eyes roamed the room, from Jaden’s face to the mirror, and back again.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Alan said. “I wanted to know—no, I was sent here to ask if you’re hungry. That is, if you are hungry, I can bring something. And if you aren’t then I won’t. And if you are but you’re going to throw it into the toilet like last time, then I won’t bring any at all. But they will get you to eat, and it would be better if you just ate what I bring, if I bring anything.”
Alan had a twitchy way of moving when he spoke, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Jaden was reminded of nervous puppy.
“I won’t eat,” Jaden told him.
Alan scratched his elbows. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Alan scuttled to the door, turning nervously to watch Jaden as he left.
Jaden didn’t have time to ponder Alan’s strange behavior, for as soon as he had gone, three different men came inside.
Though no longer dressed and hooded in black, Jaden recognized two of the men as the intruders who had abducted him. One was massive, like a linebacker, and ugly, with a bald spot on his melon shaped head and a mustache under his bulbous nose. The second was smaller, fit, with sunken eyes and spiked, receding brown hair which exposed a large, shiny forehead. The third was a man Jaden had not seen before. He had dark brown hair and a pointy sort of face, muscular and trimmed. Lastly came Dalton holding a long rubber tube in both his hands.
“Last chance, Jaden. We can do this the hard way or—”
“Eat my shit,” Jaden replied, jumping off the bed. It wasn’t a hunger strike for the sake of it; he was making a point. He wouldn’t be held against his will.
“Patrick,” Dalton said to the large, ugly man, “hold off until Casey and Martin have secured him.”
“How many retards does it take to force feed a kid?” Jaden asked, as Casey, the receding hair man, and Martin, trimmed military guy, circled him. “So that’s how it is then? Four against one? Tackling me, that’ll make you feel like men?” he said, his voice rising in pitch.
“On three,” Dalton said calmly. Patrick edged closer as Casey and Martin crowded Jaden.
Jaden backed into a corner and raised his fists, heat rising to his face. He had two seconds before they jumped him. He tried darting to the left as Dalton said “Three.” One and two were forgotten.
For the third time Jaden was zapped with a powerful shock of electricity, and he crumpled to the floor. Before he could react, Casey and Martin pinned him, one sitting on Jaden’s legs, the other holding his wrists.
He arched his back and tried flipping, but Fat-Bald-and-Ugly-Patrick shoved a hand on Jaden’s chest.
“We need to open his mouth,” Dalton said as he kneeled to Jaden’s left.
Jaden clenched his teeth. They’d have to break his jaw to pry it open.
“Patrick,” Dalton nodded, drawing something from his coat pocket.
Patrick punched Jaden’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Instinctively, Jaden opened his mouth to gasp for air, and in that short moment, something was stuffed into his mouth, making it impossible to close. His tongue probed the hard, rubber device wedged between his top and bottom molars.
He shook his head, but Patrick grabbed Jaden’s jaw in his massive hand.
“Okay, here we go,” Dalton mumbled and inserted the yellow tube down Jaden’s throat. He spluttered and gagged, like he was going to vomit as it slid roughly down his throat.
“Breathe through your nose,” Dalton said mechanically. “You’ll pass out if you don’t breathe on your own, and then you’ll breathe again. I warned you about this.”
As he shoved the tube, Dalton put earbuds of a stethoscope in his ears and placed the chest-piece on Jaden’s abdomen, listening.
He pushed the tube a little more, then stopped. “Good, it’s in his stomach. Let’s administer his meal,” Dalton said, slinging the stethoscope around his neck. He opened a case Jaden had not seen carried into the room. Inside was a large syringe, a foot long and thick, filled with a gooey tan substance. Dalton placed the tip of the syringe into the tube and depressed the plunger.
It was food. They were manually forcing food into him. It took less than a minute to squeeze the contents of the syringe into Jaden’s stomach. It was a bizarre and uncomfortable feeling to be hungry and then suddenly full. After the syringe was emptied, Dalton removed it from the tube. He held the tube in one hand, and clamped it with the other, pulling it between his pinched fingers.
The sensation was sickening as the tube slid up his throat. He gagged twice before it was over. Dalton then pulled the jaw device from inside Jaden’s mouth.
Jaden coughed as Casey and Martin released him. He rolled onto his stomach, coughing, feeling sick again, his eyes watering from the discomfort. His throat was raw.
“Next time take the food on a tray. He’ll need four hours to digest it. Shower him and jacket him,” Dalton instructed. He knelt down and turned Jaden over. “We’ll keep doing this as long as we have to. I have a schedule to follow and I won’t let you deviate from it.”
Jaden gathered food residue and saliva in his mouth and spit in Dalton’s face.
“Son of a bitch!” one of the men said, pulling Jaden off the floor and pining his elbows to his sides. “Apologize!”
“Fuck you,” Jaden said, lifting into the air, his legs flailing. “Let me go, you piece of shit. Let me go!”
Dalton wiped his face. “I’ll see you soon, Jaden. Don’t be rough with him, Martin, he’s still learning.” Dalton packed the case and left, leaving Jaden with the three men.
Casey and Martin escorted Jaden into the bathroom. Jaden kicked and resisted as best he could. When all three of them were inside the bathroom, Patrick blocked the entry. Martin released Jaden, who scrambled to the corner, trying to catch his breath.
“Take off your clothes,” Casey said, “and get in the shower.”
“No way,” Jaden wheezed, clutching a stitch in his side. His stomach felt over-full, and it cramped.
“We’ll take them off if you don’t, and we’d rather not.”
Jaden wanted to throw up, but Casey stood in front of the toilet. He didn’t mind vomiting all over him, though. He put his finger in his mouth, but Martin grabbed his wrist, twist him around, pinned his hand to his back, then shoved him against the padded wall. He grunted on impact.
“Why are you doing this the hard way, kid?” Martin said. “We don’t want to do this, you know.” He braced Jaden against the wall, pushing his neck with his forearm as Casey ripped Jaden’s clothes off.
Water spluttered then flowed from the shower spout. Martin lifted Jaden over the ledge and placed him under the stream of lukewarm water. He rolled away from them, making himself into a ball in the corner, avoiding the water and trying to keep as much dignity as he could. Martin adjusted the shower nozzle so it soaked Jaden’s head and back.
He didn’t feel human. Cold and soaking, curled in the corner of a shower in a strange place, Jaden felt like a wild animal, trapped and locked, poked and prodded because he was a new species of beast.
“We’ll give you privacy if you wash yourself,” Martin said, handing Jaden a small bar of soap. “If you throw or drop the soap and don’t clean yourself, we’ll have to. We don’t want to.”
Jaden took the soap. If he bathed fast, maybe it would be over soon. He nod
ded at Martin, glad the water ran down his face and masked his tears. As promised, Martin and Casey turned their backs on him. They thought they saved his dignity? Not looking made them better people?
He ran the soap over his skin. His forearm with the new tattoo was sore. He was quick about the washing, then uncurled himself to rinse, struggling against fits of sobs.
“Done?” Martin asked.
Jaden nodded at the suds as they circled the drain before being sucked under. “Yes,” he mumbled, crying.
He wanted to disappear into nothingness and be gone from the world forever.
The water shut off. Patrick tossed Jaden a towel, and he covered himself, drying his face then his shoulders and chest. Lastly he stood and dried everywhere else, keeping his back to the three men.
“Dry?” asked Martin.
Jaden nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“You’ll dress yourself? Won’t give us trouble?”
“Okay,” Jaden said.
Fresh clothes were handed to him. With the towel draped around his waist, he pulled on pants, then a shirt, and stepped out of the shower, his head low. Martin escorted him out of the bathroom. An awfully long sleeved jacket lay on the bed.
“We have to put this on so you don’t induce vomiting,” Martin said, lifting the jacket. “Don’t give us trouble.”
Jaden bumped into Patrick, who grabbed his arms.
“No, don’t!” Jaden sobbed, composure gone. His arms were forced into the sleeves of the straight jacket as he struggled fruitlessly. As Casey fastened the buckles at his back, he was pushed to his knees. Jaden’s body shook as he cried, even after the men finished.
One tear, two tears splattered the floor as he lay his head on the padded ground. He watched three pairs of shoes shuffling toward the door, glad they were leaving, sad he was not. When it closed behind them, Jaden screwed his eyes shut and rolled on his stomach, face to the floor.
He’d never been so humiliated or treated as badly as this. Minutes ago he thought of winning a game. This wasn’t a game. It was serious. Stripped of all dignity and power, he had been literally naked before them. His sense of pride was slipping.
Jaden Baker Page 9
