by Jill Cooper
Jenna glanced at the glass of juice and back at him. She thought back to how pale he was when she handed him the juice. Of all the times, she poured it for him and he made some excuse on why he couldn’t have any.
“How do you survive without drinking the juice?”
“What?” Rick asked after a moment’s pause. His head turned to the side and she could make out a squint to his eye.
“You don’t drink the juice. You don’t wear a harness. So how do you survive? I didn’t think we could without it. It’s what makes us, us. Isn’t it?”
Rick turned with a shake of his head. “You’re over thinking this. I drink it in the mornings before work.”
“No, you don’t. There’s never any missing, Rick.” Jenna’s eyes moistened. “Why are you lying? Why can’t you just tell me why you don’t need it and the rest of us do?”
He approached her. “Jenna, there’s no big mystery here, okay? I’m just Rick. Nothing’s going on here. I promise.”
Jenna’s determination flashed through her eyes as she clenched her jaw. “Everyone wears a harness. I know you say you have special permission not to, but no one gets permission for anything here.”
“You shouldn’t talk like that.” Rick’s teeth gritted. “You know they can hear us. If they think we’re being a problem . . . Listen, let’s head back outside with our friends. Have some burgers. You’re right; I am being rude. I’m sorry, honey.” He stroked her arms.
And Jenna turned her head away.
Rick’s hands froze. “Well, if that’s the way you’re going to be, fine. I’ll go down myself and you can stay here. Sulk, if that’s what you want.”
“I’m not sulking.” Jenna’s eyes narrowed and her heart pounded. She could feel something coming, edging its way up from the darkest recesses of her mind. “You’re not one of us, are you?”
Rick’s mouth fell open and darkness crept into his eyes. “How can you say that?”
Jenna took a shaking breath. “It’s what evidence suggests.”
“I’m your husband. We were married. You think I’d be here in this place if I wasn’t one of you?”
“I don’t know.” The truth was, Jenna felt confused. Her insides were shaking; even her fingers trembled as she spoke. “I remember standing with you at the altar and getting married. But I don’t remember getting there, getting dressed, or what happened after, or before. There are holes, gaping holes, Jameson.”
Rick took her hands. “I can’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but that doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with me. It’s the way it is sometimes, Jenna. We’ve been married for two years.”
“Three years,” Jenna corrected. “Don’t you remember when we were married?” Her face fell and hardened from the heartbreak she felt.
Rick massaged her shoulders. “I misspoke.”
“If you’re one of us, if we’re married and you love me, then drink the juice.” Her soft, blue eyes pleaded with him. “If you don’t, I’m going to find another place to sleep tonight.”
Anger transformed his face in a way Jenna hadn’t seen before. Her heart raced and for a moment, she was scared she might be in real danger. Jenna shied away. Rick gripped her shoulders and kept her from getting too far.
“Get off of me.” Jenna tried to pull away and her voice shook with fear.
“I don’t take kindly to your threats. I won’t live with ultimatums.”
“You’re hurting me.” Jenna’s voice was weak and when she said it, Rick let her go. His lips turned down and his eyes relaxed. He looked just like the husband from that morning and all the mornings before it, but Jenna couldn’t forget his anger and how twisted and cruel it made him look.
His face flashed in her mind and this time she saw Rick Jameson snarling at her. She was wearing a police uniform and something on Rick’s wrist slapped around her neck. It dug into her skin and the electricity surge made her change; change into a glistening.
He dragged her from the room and Jenna couldn’t even gurgle out a scream, but behind her, charging through the hallway, another voice screamed, “Jameson!”
Jenna didn’t know the voice, but it was familiar. She didn’t know how she knew, but instinctually she did. She knew that voice belonged to Dirk.
Dirk; was the missing link in all of this. Where was he? Who was he?
The memory faded and Jenna rubbed her forehead. Her body trembled and the front of her harness lit up. “No,” Jenna whispered. She didn’t want to forget. She was almost there. Everything was so close to tumbling out of her brain that Jenna just wanted to stop time and remember.
She didn’t want to forget.
Jenna swayed on her feet and Rick caught her as she fell. He picked her up and laid her on the bed. “Don’t,” Jenna whispered and her fingers traced his jaw. “You’re not my husband.”
Rick turned his head to gaze over his shoulder. “About damn time you arrived. I was dying in here.”
Her eyes were lidded and Jenna could barely see, but she could make out the sight of the New Haven police caps the men wore. They entered her home and Rick was letting them. What else was he letting them do?
Gerard took Jenna’s hand with a smile. In his other hand, he cradled a syringe. “Soon this will all be a bad dream. How do you feel?”
But Jenna didn’t answer. Her head rolled to the side and she refused to answer any of his questions. She only answered, “I’m Jenna Morgan. New Haven officer 652370-2.”
****
Rick paced outside the second level hall. The rug was beige and the benign walls were covered in carefully crafted photos of Rick and Jenna on vacation, their wedding day. All of them faked to keep Jenna in the illusion of marriage. He’d been in it for so long, he almost started to believe it.
Except in his bedroom, a monster slept.
New Haven officers had come and gone, making sure the Jensen’s went home without any hint of what was going on here, but Rick knew they came close to the whole operation being blown. It was only three more little days.
He had been doing this for six months and now the finish line was so close, but it felt further away than ever. Rick had to keep it together. His damn temper nearly blew it apart, but could anyone blame him for not wanting to drink liquefied organs? There was no way he could fake enjoying that stuff, even if he put a squirt of lime and some chopped cilantro in it.
When the door to the master suite opened, Rick’s anxiety flooded his chest. “Well?”
Gerard closed the door softly with a nod. “She’s resting comfortably for now. When she wakes up, she won’t remember much of anything except she wasn’t feeling well.”
Rick sighed with relief and closed his eyes. He even said a quick prayer as the stress washed away and was replaced with gratitude.
“It took more drugs and suggestion than it should’ve. If it happens again, we’re going to have no choice, but to take her to the barracks and recondition her there.”
That was the least favorable option.
“Three more days, do you think you can hold it together just a bit longer?” Gerard asked.
Rick narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s easy living with monsters, breathing down your neck? I’d like you to try it and see how well you do.”
“Mr. Jameson, they’re all breathing down our necks now, which is why we need Jenna healthy and strong leading into this birth.”
“Maybe we should move her to the barracks—under lock and key, constant supervision. Four days isn’t a long time to keep her secure.”
Gerard offered a small smile. “We need her calm. You know as well as I do, her organ function has taken a beating by carrying this baby to term. Any additional stress on her body . . .”
Rick’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Husband of the year, you’re looking at him.”
“Good.” Gerard started down the stairs. “She should sleep until morning. When she wakes up, well, you had better practice sipping that organ juice. A little salt and pepper go a
long way.”
Disgusted, Rick snorted and headed into the bedroom. It was a long day and it was going to be an even longer tomorrow if he didn’t get some sleep. Rick slid between the sheets next to Jenna, the monster—his wife—and settled down on his pillow. Beside him, Jenna shifted and Rick rolled over to stroke her hair.
Just a few more sleeps and it’d all be over for the both of them.
Rick just hoped he could get there in one piece.
****
In the morning, little of what transpired the day before was left in Jenna’s mind, but a haunt and a whisper. She dressed and did her hair while Rick was in the shower. Entering the bathroom, steam greeted her face. “Rick?”
He didn’t answer, but his silhouette was cast against the shower curtain. Jenna stepped inside and called his name louder. “Rick! Do you want breakfast?”
“I grabbed some earlier while you slept, babe. I’ll be out soon!”
Jenna was unsure why he would eat without her. Was he tired of her cooking? She always thought he liked eggs. She scowled until her eyes fell onto the glass on the opal vanity. It had the residue of the organ juice they drank every day. She picked it up and Jenna swirled her finger on the inside before sucking on it. Yup, it was juice.
Rick drank the juice.
It made her feel better even though she didn’t know why. Jenna hurried down the stairs and prepared her own breakfast. Jenna consumed a quick glass of juice and a piece of warm buttered toast by the time she heard footsteps dredging down the stairs.
Rick was all smiles when he entered the kitchen. His hair was wet and slicked back as he took in the sight of her. “Hey, hon., you sleep all right?”
“Of course.” Jenna nestled her arms through his as she leaned in for a hug. “Was your juice all right?”
“Perfect.” Rick kissed her forehead. He snuggled her close like he always did in the morning, but something about it felt different.
Jenna felt separated from him, detached. She gazed up at him with a suspicious glint in her eye. “Is everything all right?”
Rick grinned widely. “Peachy keen, honey. I have to head to work. You have any big plans for the day?” He took the offered brown bag lunch from her hand.
“Molly and I are going shopping for baby girl dresses.” Jenna’s nose crinkled and she gave a small squeal.
“Molly?” Rick frowned. “Hon, you just saw her last night. Don’t you think it’s a little soon to see her again?”
“Posh!” Jenna waved her hand at him. “You can’t see friends too often. What’s gotten into you?”
His face flashed with desperation and Jenna didn’t know why. Was he looking for excuses to keep her in? “Maybe you should stay in today. Rest. We only have a few more days to go.”
“But . . .” Jenna’s face was crestfallen and her heart right along with it. “We were going to grab some chicken clubs and malt shakes. You know how much I love those things. Why do you think I need to stay in?”
Her face searched his and Rick started to falter. Gazing off, he sighed and rubbed his mouth. “Okay. Yeah. If you want to go, just take it easy. For me.” He rubbed her shoulders and gave her a brief, but sweet kiss.
Something was different about him. Jenna couldn’t put her finger on it, but his body felt rigid, frozen. Was he upset about something? “I’ll see you for dinner?” Jenna walked Rick to the front door.
“Keep it warm for me,” he whispered and nuzzled her cheek. Her heart soared and her stomach flipped with happiness. She watched him walk across the grass, toward his car with his hand in the air, waving to the neighbors out watering their lawns.
Jenna grinned and gave him a big wave good-bye. Happiness. Perfection. But deep down, something stirred.
Happiness was fleeting. The struggle is what endured. She didn’t know why she felt that way, but Jenna chewed on her lip as she slammed the door shut. “Well, time to get this place tip-top!”
She glanced at the watch she always wore, spinning it around to see the dial, when her attention was drawn to a red mark on her wrist. Her finger grazed across it and Jenna shivered. She didn’t know why, but she trembled again.
****
Jenna could only do so much housework, before she grew bored. Some people had spick-and-span houses, but not hers. If she managed to clean the counters and sweep the floors, Jenna considered the job well enough done. Maybe it was the pregnancy, or maybe it was something else, but in any regard, with the dishes done, Jenna headed out for a day of fun and relaxation.
Jenna paid no mind to the lint she saw on the rug and the magazines on the coffee table that weren’t properly fanned out. Rick would take care of it for her, if she asked, he always did.
Outside, it was a warm, sunny day and Jenna hummed on her drive downtown to Main Street. Her window rolled down, her arm was hot in the sun. It was so nice that in New Haven, it was always warm. It rarely rained, except on Tuesdays, and every day was as perfect as the day before.
Parking the car over by Jimmy’s Malt, Jenna found a seat outside under a patio umbrella. When the waitress stopped by in her paper cap and roller skates, Jenna placed her order. “Two chocolate malts, please.”
She busied herself with checking her reflection in her pocket mirror and pressed powder along her nose. When her eyes with those in the mirror, Jenna’s stomach tightened, and her lips crinkled up tight.
Traitor.
Pretender.
Jenna snapped her mirror shut and didn’t know why her mind spun the way it did. She busied herself by playing with the neckline of her shirt. Everything was perfect here. She was happy.
So why did she hate looking at herself so much? Why didn’t her eyes look happy?
She had everything to be happy about. Everything.
Gazing around, Jenna waited for her friend. Everyone around her was laughing, sipping their shakes, even though it was only ten in the morning. Light conversation and jovial laughter, just as it should be, but when the police car drove by, the air around the outdoor patio changed and Jenna shrunk back.
The laughter was struck down as if physically slapped.
No one moved and no one said anything until the car moved along and even then, Jenna’s insides felt frozen. Her hands shook as the waitress rolled by and placed the shakes down in front of her.
“Thank you,” Jenna whispered and her eyebrows crinkled. A memory was coming, something strong, but it was cut off as someone called her name.
“Jenna!”
Her head darted up and a wide smile spread across her face. “Molly!” Jenna waved at her fair-skinned and light-featured friend.
“Oh my word.” Molly took a seat and scooted her black and red, speckled dress beneath her legs. “I’ve been looking forward to this all morning!” She took her malt shake. “Cheers, old friend!”
Jenna clinked her shake glass into Molly’s, but she couldn’t help but notice how Molly’s makeup wasn’t as perfect as it usually was. Her mascara was clumped and the foundation was too thick around her jawbone. “Are you all right?”
Molly’s smile never cracked, even as it stretched too far. “Right as rain, I always say!” She leaned over to sip her milkshake and that was when Jenna noticed the red marks on her wrists, just like her own.
Jenna snatched Molly’s hand and rubbed her finger along her skin. Molly flinched. Her injury was much more recent than her own.
“What’re you doing?” Molly’s forced laughter echoed around them, like a tightening whirlpool that proved to Jenna, something was going on.
Nothing was right here.
“How’d you get these marks?”
Molly shrugged as she pulled her hand free. She massaged her skin and gazed around, unsure of herself. “I don’t know. They were just there this morning. Maybe I did it yesterday, when I left your place with that big plate of watermelon you gave me.”
Jenna’s forehead scrunched. “Watermelon?” she whispered, because she knew no such thing happened. There was no watermelon. “It
was corn on the cobb.”
“No,” Molly started slowly, “I’m pretty sure it was watermelon.”
Jenna didn’t think so. A memory flashed in her mind of Rick storming off the patio and Jenna, after a short time, went after him. But that hadn’t happened? Had it?
“What’s going on here?” Jenna asked and her voice sounded so forceful, it didn’t sound anything like her. It sounded . . . well, she didn’t want to think what she sounded like.
“Everything is fine here.” Molly’s voice strained and her hands glided across the top of the table.
Jenna snorted. Since when did she snort? “Everything is a long way off from fine here.”
“Jenna,” Molly warned, “leave it alone.”
“I need to find out what’s going on.”
Molly leaned forward. “Be quiet or they will hear you,” she whispered, but then broke out in a smile. “My malt shake sure is good!”
“How can you pretend?” Jenna whispered. “How can you—.”
But wasn’t that what she was doing? Pretending?
No! Jenna shook her head, but what was the truth? What was the right answer?
Molly placed a hand to her chest. “Pretend?” Her voice was high and unnatural. “I never . . .” Her words drifted off into the ether as her harness glowed bright. A hiss of air was released and Molly’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Jenna gritted her teeth. The damn harnesses. She was getting angry. Her heart was pounding, but her harness hadn’t triggered.
Why hadn’t it triggered?
Molly smiled and tilted her head to the side. Her hands rubbed her neck. “I’m sorry . . . I have to go. Dinner needs to be cooked.”
“It’s only ten-thirty in the morning.” Jenna put a hand on her friend’s, but Molly tugged it away and pushed her chair back. “Molly?”
Her friend didn’t hear her, or maybe she couldn’t. She stared straight ahead and crossed the congested street with downtown morning traffic. Molly didn’t even pause as she stepped off the curb, straight into the path of a blue, 1957 Chevy.
