by B. Wulf
“Welcome home,” he said to Cole, “We were so worried, when we heard of the plane crash. We have waited so long.”
Stuart gave me an awkward little wave and a sad attempt at a smile.
“I’m glad you’re safe. So how was Siberia?” he asked.
“Cold,” I replied.
He nodded and stood there blankly. Someone was missing
“Where’s Kate?” I asked.
Sasha looked at me and frowned, “Regrettably she has left the internship.”
My reality was shattered.
“But…”
“Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere private,” said Sasha.
***
That night, I sat in Sasha’s office and watched Cole pace back and forth.
“I am sorry, but Sasha has been called into an urgent meeting. This should only take a minute. I understand that you and Kate had a…” He paused as he searched for the words. “I understand that you and Kate were...” He paused and then said, “I understand that you were romantically involved?”
“Yes.”
“And that this must be hard for you,” he said wringing his hands together, “I don’t know how to say this but…”
“You don’t allow your interns to mix business with pleasure?”
“No. Not that. We’re all for diversifying the working environment. Kate has left the internship upon her own accord.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
“She cited personal reasons.”
“Did she leave a phone number, or an address, or something?”
“No Fletcher, apparently not.”
Cole was biting his lip.
“I’m sorry.”
“But you must know where she is! You’re practically her family!”
“Sasha will know where she is staying, but I do not know the reason she left the internship.”
“Then get Sasha to tell me where she is.”
Cole sat down opposite me.
“I cannot do that Fletcher.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Just tell me the address.”
“She told Sasha that she does not want anyone to contact her, Fletcher. I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t speak. I just sat in a stunned silence.
“I’m sorry Fletcher,” he added again, “You can have the rest of the week off to recover from your recent adventure.”
I left the room without a word.
***
I spent the remainder of that night playing solitaire on my computer and eating takeout. I didn’t even leave my room the next day.
***
For the next four months at CANA, I lived as an automaton. I would wake up, I would head out to work (Sasha had attached me to a lab at the university, it was good for a bit of extra cash), I would return to CANA, and then I would go to sleep. Interspersed in this fun filled (sarcasm) routine was eating, drinking, occasionally phoning home, and playing video games.
I forgot about Kate in the day, remembered her at night, and then would lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering what she was doing at that exact moment. The one question which occupied my sleep-deprived mind until the early hours of the morning was, was she thinking of me at this exact moment?
The most curious thing about my situation was that my pulse still quickened when I thought of her intrigued eyes looking at me. I should have been bitter, forgotten her, and then moved on. But she was the only girl in the world I had ever kissed and I was starting to fear that this might be because she was the only girl in the world willing to kiss me. Perhaps I had aimed too high? She was out of my league and I should have embraced that.
But she kissed me.
***
“Get up bro.”
Stuart burst into my room and switched on the lights. I winced. It was twelve at night. I just groaned.
“Stop acting like a heart broken twelve year old and come get amongst it bro.”
I had barely seen Stuart these past four months.
“It’s too late for that,” I moaned.
“The clubs are just heating up at this time. Live a little.”
“Fine.”
I gave in. It could be fun.
“Meet you out front in twenty then.”
***
“So what’s been up with you?” I asked Stuart.
We were sitting at the bar, sipping bourbon and cola.
“I’ve just had a lot on my mind these past months,” he replied.
“Same,” I said, “Pretty heavy, this internship. And I nearly died in Siberia.”
“Yeah.”
He paused in thought and then continued.
“I’ve been thinking Fletcher. Sometimes you just have to forget and move on. Life’s too short. Well for most people anyway. There are always more girls.”
“Is that what you’ve done?” I asked, “Forgot and moved on.”
Stuart swilled his glass about.
“Nah,” he said, “Some things you can’t forget.”
I nodded and watched the lady at the bar pouring drinks. Stuart appeared lost in thought.
“You know what’s worse than a life sentence,” he said finally.
He was on his fourth drink.
“The death sentence?”
Stuart shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Okay, what?”
Stuart ordered another drink before speaking.
“Doing the crime but not doing the time.”
“Most convicts would probably disagree with you there.”
Stuart laughed. It was a harsh laugh, almost a snort.
“What did you do then?” I asked.
Stuart stared at me for a moment and then said, “Ah, what the hell. I was sixteen; I had borrowed my parent’s car, and was showing off to my mates. I turned a corner, lost traction and plowed into the side of a house.”
“Doesn’t sound that bad. So you damaged some property.”
“The car went through the nursery.”
“Oh.”
“Since I was a juvenile I got six months community service and I lost my license. Six months!”
I shook my head slowly.
“But I’ve figured it out,” he said, raising his glass.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m doing it.” He downed the remainder of his drink. “I’m going to pay my debts.”
“What are you on about?”
He had a crazy look in his eye.
“I’m getting integrated.”
He stood up.
“You mean you’re gonna become like Frederick? A Synthetic?”
“Hell yeah, now lets party.”
Stuart vanished into the writhing throng of bodies, which was the dance floor.
“Can I please have a tequila shot?” I asked the bar lady. “Actually, make that two.”
Downing my drinks, I followed Stuart into the crowd and tried to forget. Forget Kate, forget this conversation, and forget CANA.
I have never quite liked dancing. Possibly because when I danced I looked like a crippled orangutan. I surveyed the crowd to familiarize myself with the accepted style of dancing in the club. It was mainly grinding, or lethargic head bops and gangster slouching. Depended on your gender I guess.
“Nice cane.”
“Pardon?”
I had lost Stuart and so was just having a casual dance by myself (as in, leaning against the bar and bopping my head to the music). I had gone with the, drink in one hand, cane in the other, I’m cool in a casual kind of way pose. I fancied that I looked like a sugar daddy, a skinny white sugar daddy.
“I said you have a nice cane,” said a girl to my left.
I had bought a new cane after losing mine in Siberia. It was sleek and black. It almost made me look cool if I was strolling down the street, but it made me look like an idiot in the dark club.
“Thanks,” I said.
I almost said, ‘My Granddad made it’. It had become my programmed response when people com
mented on my cane.
“I’m Jessica.”
“Fletcher.”
We danced next to each other for a little while. It was a tad awkward.
“I like your accent. Are you Australian?”
“No, I’m a Kiwi.”
“Wow, what are you doing all the way over here? I thought Kiwi’s can’t fly.”
I genuinely laughed, for the first time in months. It felt good.
“I’m a ecology undergrad,” she said, “I know these things.”
“Wanna grab some air?” I asked.
I was starting to feel sick. Jessica snorted.
“Sorry bud, if that was a pickup line I ain't biting. I don’t swing that way.”
“I got a headache!” I said, “And a girlfriend.”
“Neither of those stop most guys,” replied Jessica, “Is she a nice girl?”
“Yeah but...”
I didn’t know what to say. Why did I still think of Kate as my girlfriend? I hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask her out.
“But?”
“I haven't seen her in like four months so I dunno...”
“Huh are you like one of them tween couples that build a relationship electronically?”
We were moving away from the dance floor. It was hard to have a conversation over the thumping bass.
“No,” I said quickly, eager to leave, “Well... Not exactly. We used to hang heaps. I've never actually asked her out. She went away and now… We used to hang a lot.”
I didn’t have a clue why I was defending myself.
“Fletcher, you are romantically retarded.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I gotta go,” I said and then left without waving goodbye.
Stuart could find his own way home. I was too tipsy to care.
***
The next morning before work, I found myself acting like a stalker and casually perusing Kate’s, now vacant, room. I lay on the bed, fiddled with the pillows, and started to form the opinion in my head that I was going crazy. I suspected that my mental faculties had been deteriorating. Apart from a raging hangover, I couldn’t concentrate. Sasha had started calling me in for ‘talks’ every night, and I couldn’t sleep more than two hours at a time. On top of that, I was now lying down in Kate’s old bed. I was creeping myself out.
But then something caught my eye. It was a slip of paper, which had fallen down behind the bedside table and was trapped against the wall. After prying it free, I discovered that it was a letter. It was from her Grandmother.
And it had a return address.
Chapter 11
The morning light played tricks with the shadows, as I slowly walked up the drive. The house looked cozy. A little terrier sat on the porch, lazing in the sun. One eye opened as I limped closer.
“Hey boy,” I said, offering my hand.
The dog went mental. It must have been a girl and having had its gender questioned was intent on chewing my foot off and keeping it as a trophy. It was still happily mauling my leg, when it was rudely interrupted by a projectile shoe to the face.
“Boris, you leave that young man alone, you naughty dog.”
I looked up and saw a miniature woman who was bent over with age. Thick rimmed glasses sat on her pudgy nose and a squared off fringe framed her face.
“Hi,” I said, “Are you Mrs Sanders?”
“I certainly am,” she replied, “And who might you be? Are you here for the hot water cylinder?”
“Um no… Miss. My name is Fletcher Harris and…”
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh?”
“I know who you are. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I shrugged and sat down on the steps to wait. I had felt ashamed before, like when as a kid I mouthed swear words at a deaf girl in my class, but I had never felt more ashamed as when I sat on those steps. I was the cast off love interest crawling back to plead for another chance.
Boris watched me cautiously from the porch. I felt like being sick. It had been four months since I had seen Kate. She obviously didn’t want to see me, but I just needed to talk to her. Just once and then I would leave.
“Fletcher?”
It was Kate’s voice. I turned and was stunned to discover anew just how beautiful she was. I couldn’t speak and so got to my feet.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
She said it with no emotion. Why do you think? Mrs Sanders, her Gran, was lurking behind her.
“You left without saying goodbye and…”
I stopped when I noticed it. It was a hard detail to miss.
“You’re pregnant?”
“You had better come inside,” said Mrs Sanders.
***
“Do you want a drink? Tea? Coffee?” Mrs Sanders was fretting around the place while Kate sat opposite me at a table, while I sat on a lazy chair.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You sure dear? We have orange juice.”
“Perhaps a water would be nice?”
“Same for me,” added Kate.
She was just sitting there watching me.
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” she said, “It must be a shock.”
Mrs Sanders returned with our waters.
“I’ll let you two be,” she said leaving the room, “Just call if you need me dear. Your Grandfather will be home soon.” Before closing the door she added, “He has the key to the gun cabinet.”
“Thanks Gran,” said Kate.
She took a sip of water, put her cup down, and then looked at me. Her eyes were sparkling.
“So what do you want to know?”
“How?” I asked.
She laughed. Not one of her laughs I adored. It was laden with derision.
“You took biology Fletcher, you know how.”
I grimaced.
“Is it mine?”
She took a breath and tapped the table with her slender fingers, like she was playing the piano.
“Yes, Fletcher, it’s yours.”
“Okay,” I said.
Inwardly, I was relieved and apprehensive at the same time.
“Okay?” she said incredulously, “Is that all?”
“Why did you leave, Kate? You weren’t even there when I got back from Russia. Weren’t you worried? I was in a plane crash, I nearly died!”
“Sasha told me you were safe,” she replied, “And I left because it is better this way.” She paused before adding softly, “To be honest, I panicked.”
“You didn’t have to leave, you could have finished the internship.”
“You still don’t get it Fletch.” I smiled when she called me Fletch. “It’s not an internship.”
“Um, are you sure? They do call us interns…”
“They’re recruiting you.”
I grimaced. I just found out I was going to be a father and we were talking about the stupid internship.
“What were the prerequisites for the internship Fletcher?”
“We had to do that test thing.”
“Exactly,” she said, “The only prerequisite was that you have a good mind. Don’t you find that odd? No experience, no references; they just wanted interns with a good mind.”
I shrugged.
“I had to leave the internship,” she said slowly, “Because I am no longer eligible for the internship.”
It clicked. CANA needed young, astute minds for their program. It was not an internship. It was a recruitment scheme. You couldn’t undergo the procedure if you were pregnant. They wanted young, erudite minds.
“They want us to become Synthetics?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Stuart is going to do it. He told me the other night.”
“Good on him,” said Kate, “He might be able to make a difference.”
“So you intended to go through with it all along?” I asked.
“Until this happened.”
�
�I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s definitely not a bad thing.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me? I don’t care about this twisted internship. I would have left with you. I still can. I’ll get a boring job in some lab; I’ve got the credentials. We can have a little house, with a garden, a dog.” I was getting excited. “A pug preferably; they’re good with kids. You won’t have to live with your grandparents. Why didn’t you just tell me?”
She stayed silent for a while.
“I wanted you to choose for yourself. I didn’t want to force you out of your future. You told me you believed in what Sasha was doing. And besides,” she added, “You told me you can’t stand kids.”
I stayed silent. I had said that I believed in what CANA was doing, but only because Kate had said it first. And the thing about the kids was just a joke. How was I to know?
“It’s my child too,” I said quietly.
Kate looked down. “And you can’t leave the internship anyway,” she said finally, “You’re on a student visa. You would have to return home. I doubt you’ll be able to get a working visa fast enough. The baby will be born by the time you get back. You may as well just stay on at the internship.”
I stood. For once I knew what I should do.
“There is one way for me to stay in America,” I said slowly.
“What do you…”
I put a finger to my lips and fell to one knee, grabbing her hand.
“Kate Sanders,” I said, holding on to her, as if for dear life, “Kate Sanders, I know I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you, but would you please make me the happiest man alive and do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
She stared at me with her mouth slightly open.
“I love you,” she whispered “and you’re a good man.”
I kept waiting, holding my breath.
“So, yes, I will.”
I exhaled in relief. With tears pooling in her eyes like viscous diamonds, she hugged me.
As we hugged I realized that I was happy.
***
We spent the rest of that day catching up. I told her how Frederick had saved my life, about Stuart, and about Julian and Mariana. We went for a walk to the park, rode the swings, and lay on the grass, arm in arm.
