Amoeba (The Experiments) Page 6

  Jake stepped in. “It looks happy in here.”

  “A nursery,” Estelle said. “And conveniently close to the master bedroom.”

  Jake placed his hands on his hips and looked around the room. Cal stood next to him. “Cal,” he whispered with some disappointment. “What are we gonna do with a nursery? Come on.”

  “You never know, Jake.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m going to miraculously become unsterile.”

  Cal shook her head with a quiet smile. She grabbed Jake’s hand and brought him out of the bedroom. “Wait until you see the master bedroom. What a view. And large closets.”

  “How many?”

  “Two. Both walk-in.” By Estelle, Cal led Jake into the master bedroom. “Jake, look at this window.” Cal immediately walked to the huge bay window. “Look at the view. Of course finding drapes that will fit is . . .” She turned around. Only Estelle was in the room. “Where did he go?”

  Estelle pointed near the closet that was located just outside the master bedroom powder room.

  Cal walked over there. Estelle followed.

  Jake stood in the small hall before the bathroom shaking his head.

  Cal tapped him on the back. “What’s wrong.”

  “This is way too small,” Jake commented.

  “The bathroom? No way.” Cal argued.

  “Cal, I’m telling you, it won’t work. Watch.” Jake walked in.

  “Jake, What are you doing?”

  Jake walked to the commode, put down the lid, and sat down. “See? My knees almost touch the sink.”

  “I cannot believe you are doing this,” Cal said with embarrassment.

  “Cal, comfort is important. Look how close my . . .”

  “Jake.” Cal called his name between clenched teeth. “Get off the toilet.” She moved her eyes to Estelle behind her.

  “It’s too small.” Jake stood up.

  “You’re too big,” Cal told him. “Just use the main bathroom for that.”

  “Cal, please.” Jake started to walk from the bathroom and stopped when his phone rang. He looked down to where it was hooked to a holder on his belt. “Excuse me.” He moved through Cal and Estelle, lifting the phone, and walking into the bedroom. He pointed to the window. “Great view.” He answered the phone. “Lt. Col Graison.” Jake peered out the window. “Who is this?” Immediately Jake spun to Cal.

  Cal walked to him.

  Jake’s eyes blinked several times. “Back up.” He spoke on the phone. “Who did you say this is regarding?”

  Pale.

  Jake’s face went immediately pale, and Cal saw it.

  “Jake?” She whispered. “Is everything all right?”

  Jake stared at Cal with nervousness creeping up on his face. His eyes shifted, and his mouth moved slightly. Surprise had taken him, but he quickly got a hold of himself. He nodded with closed eyes to Cal and returned to speaking on the phone. “When will you know more?” Jake asked firmly, back in military mode. “Fine. We’ll be there then. Thank you.” With a beep, Jake hung up the phone.

  “What’s the matter?” Cal asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” Jake put the phone away and kissed Cal on the forehead. “That was the institute.”

  “What institute?” Cal asked.

  “Caldwell.”

  Cal’s eye widened. “What did they want?”

  “There was, um . . . some papers we didn’t sign. Experiment releases or something stupid. They need us down there next week some time to finalize everything. I said we’ll be there.”

  “Oh,” Cal said nonchalantly, and moved away from Jake, never seeing the long deep breath he let out. “So.” She looked at Estelle. “I guess we’ll go. Thanks for taking time this evening to show him the house.”

  Estelle looked a little dejected. “It’s a great house. But . . .” She shrugged. “At least now I know what to look for. We’ll find you something else. Maybe tomorrow we can . . .”

  “Hold it.” Jake interrupted. “What do you mean find something else?”

  Cal, with a crooked smile, looked at Jake. “She means find another house. You don’t like this one.”

  “What, are you kidding me?” Jake said. “I love it. I want to see more.” He moved to the bedroom door. “Honestly, ladies, I wish you would let me say how I feel instead of guessing. Where in the world you got the idea that I don’t like this house is beyond me.” Jake, very poignant, walked from the bedroom.

  Cal, with an ‘it figures’ look to Estelle, raised her hands and let them fall with a slap as she and Estelle followed Jake out.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Caldwell Research Institute - Atlanta, GA

  March 11th - 9:00 a.m.

  Before a long observation window, Greg stood with his hands behind his back. He had a snickering smile upon his face as he stood with Stan watching inside. The vocal sounds of ‘ah’ in different musical notes seeped through the exterior speaker.

  “How . . .” Greg cringed at a bad note. “How long has he been doing that?”

  “Since seven,” Stan told Greg.

  “Has anyone asked him why?”

  “Oh, yes, several times,” Stan said.

  “And what was his reasoning?”

  “He um . . .” Stan hid his chuckle. “He wants to make sure he can still sing lead.”

  Greg’s mouth opened with a silent ‘oh’ and he nodded. He looked back in the window and laughed.

  Fort Bragg, North Carolina

  March 11th - 10:15 a.m.

  Cal was apprehensive about entering Jake’s office. She guessed she always would be. She stepped inside into Jake’s world.

  Corporal Lancing sat behind his desk. He greeted her. “Soon to be Mrs. Graison, Ma’am, how are you?”

  “Fine. Is he in?”

  “Expecting you.”

  “What’s his mood?” Cal asked.

  “Normal.”

  “Shit. Okay.” Cal moved to Jake’s office door. “Should I just go right . . .”

  The door opened, and Jake’s arm reached out and snatched Cal in. Cal shrieked and the door slammed.

  “Jake.” Cal pulled away. “You scared . . .” She was silenced by a kiss from Jake.

  Jake stepped back with a hard smack kiss and he smiled at her. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “They took our offer. We got the house.”

  Cal let out another shriek and jumped up allowing Jake to grab her and hug her. “Oh, Jake, this is so great!”

  “That’s why I needed you here.” He set her down. “By the way, did you finish working out this morning?”

  Cal grumbled. “Yes. Why?”

  “Because you’re gonna be busy the rest of the day. Do you mind?”

  “Jake, you have me busy every day. What am I doing?”

  Jake walked behind his desk. “I apologize, but you’re going to have disregard today’s agenda.”

  “Oh, bummer.” Cal sat in a chair before Jake’s desk.

  “Sorry. Anyhow.” Jake handed her an envelope. “I need you to run this check to Estelle. Hand money slash down payment.”

  Cal opened the envelope.

  “Cal, must you peek?”

  “Yeah, Jake, I must.” She whistled. “I could have written a check. You should have called.”

  “I don’t want you using your money.”

  “Our money,” Cal corrected. “Unless you have no intention of going joint once we get married.”

  “Hey, I’m willing to go with ‘what’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine’ now. You’re the one who won’t . . .”

  “Not again, please.” Cal placed the check in her purse. “Is this it?”

  “No.” Jake shook his head. “Estelle is giving you papers to bring here, and I have to fill them out and sign them. Then I need you to take them back. Actually, we both have to fill them out.”

  “What kind of papers?” Cal asked.

  “Mortgage papers.”

  “Aw Jake,” Cal whined. “Why
are we getting a mortgage? Why don’t we just use all our money for the house?”

  “Cal, please.” Jake looked offended. “We cannot liquidate most of our cash. Besides, it is completely un-American not to have a mortgage payment.”

  “All right.” Cal shrugged. “I’ll be back.”

  “And no dallying.” Jake pointed. “I have us down for lunch.”

  “I’m not eating at the mess with you again. People are weird with you. I feel funny.”

  “No mess,” Jake told her. “We’ll leave base.”

  “Excellent. It’s a date.” Cal hurried to the desk, bent over, and kissed him. “See you soon.” Cal raced to the door trying to make an escape before another Jake instruction was thrown at her.

  “Cal.”

  Too late. Cal smiled and turned around. “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  With a quiet, appreciative smile, Cal nodded, and glad for no more instructions, she left.

  As soon as the door shut, Jake picked up the phone and pressed intercom. “Lancing, stop Cal and tell her I said do not blow off the dress lady again today. Thanks.”

  Central News Network - Chicago, Illinois

  March 11th - 10:30 a.m.

  The bright orange and yellow printed cartoon tie really didn’t go with the other business aspects of Billy’s attire. White shirt, black pants, his curly hair styled and combed neatly. But Billy didn’t care. His niece had gotten him that tie, and he promised her he’d wear it, hideous or not. A little bit more upbeat, Billy walked into the newsroom. He walked by Trudy, the main secretary, dropping a folder on her desk. “It’s boring, but it’s what Kenning wanted. Can you get him on the phone and tell him Boswell Financial did indeed withdraw their bankruptcy? I’ll tell him ‘I told you so’ myself. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem.” Trudy, an older woman, smiled and nodded then returned to her typing.

  Billy continued on through the newsroom toward the cubicles. He passed by the one before his where Elizabeth Curry sat, her medium-length red hair tucked behind one ear as she clicked slowly on her computer. “Morning Liz.”

  “Morning . . .” Elizabeth looked up. “Hey, Bill?”

  Billy backtracked his footsteps. “What’s up?”

  “Did MacMillan get a hold of you?”

  “No, why?”

  “His wife went into labor. He needs you to cover Senator Johnson’s lunch this afternoon for him.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell Kenning. Thanks.” Billy moved on.

  “Oh, and Bill, the . . .”

  “Oh yes!” Billy clenched his fist with excitement and peeked his head into Elizabeth’s cubicle. “When did it arrive?”

  “About an hour ago”

  “Yes.” Billy excitedly raced to his desk and ran his hand over the box whose shipping label read ‘Southwest High School, Seattle.’ He pulled at the tape.

  Elizabeth walked around to Billy’s space. “I take it the Internet thing worked.”

  “Like a gem. I think it was like less than twenty-four hours after I posted her picture that an old high school buddy recognized her.” Billy grinned and opened the box, pulling out the first of four yearbooks. “This is a start.”

  “How about that Graison guy?” Elizabeth asked. “Any news on the background check?”

  “No.” Billy flipped through the yearbook. “Talk about a highly classified individual.” He looked at Elizabeth. “What is up with that? All I got is that he is stationed as Executive Officer of Fort Bragg, and he is now Lt. Col. Graison.” Billy tossed the yearbook in the box. “I’ll have to work on this on my own . . .” He stopped speaking when Elizabeth cleared her throat. Billy turned around. Paul Kenning stood there. Billy gave a quick smile of appreciation to Elizabeth as she left. “Mr. Kenning.”

  Paul flipped open the box. “Which story?”

  “Caldwell and the experiment. Just a way to find out more about the two participant survivors.” Billy shrugged as if it were nothing when really he was loving it. “I guess I’m trying to get a grip on what kind of people they chose. Normal people, I mean.”

  “Hoping to fit a perfect bill?”

  “Hell, I mean, heck yeah.” Billy smiled “I want to be exactly what they want.”

  “Good.” Paul nodded. “Just wanted to say you were right on Boswell. And will you cover Senator Johnson?”

  “Yes.” Billy took the box from his desk and laid it on the floor. “Gonna head there now.”

  “Thanks.” Paul began to walk away, and then he stepped back. “Just one more thing. What day is it that you’re going to Caldwell?”

  “Monday,” Billy answered.

  “Good luck. Keep me posted on that.” With a pat to Billy arm, Paul gave a boss’ smile and left the cubicle.

  Billy gathered up his things to leave again. As he did so, his eyes kept shifting down to the box on the floor. He wanted so badly to take just five minutes to review the year books and high school transcripts. Amongst other things, he was curious to see was sent to him. But knowing five minutes would turn into hours, Billy had to forgo his anxiousness of getting to that box and return to the work that paid for his rent.

  Fort Bragg, North Carolina

  March 11th - 5:30 p.m.

  It was bad enough Jake had to deal with what he liked to call ‘derelict enhanced’ individuals, but now on top of that, he had to deal with personal calls, too. Not that he minded them much, but when they could be avoided, he grew irritated. Like the woman at Bridal Boutique. She called Jake three times to inform him that Cal failed to show up for a fitting. With it being the last straw, Jake promised if he had to drag Cal by her long hair, he would to ensure she was there the next day.

  More annoyance hit when Jake pulled in his driveway. He had long since accepted the reality that neighbors were a fact of life. Unless you lived in seclusion, you would have them. But if they had to live in such close proximity, could they not control their offspring’s amusement devices? Walking up to his house, Jake paused on the walk, picked up what looked like a bad imitation of a dump truck, and tossed it to the next yard.

  Despite Jake’s demeanor, one thing remained certain. He was happy to be home. Jake actually liked coming home, unlike before the experiment when he didn’t have Cal. Now he looked forward to his weekend with her. Alone. With his briefcase in his hand, Jake opened his front door, stepping inside and stopping cold. “What the fuck happened to my house?” He spoke looking around the living room which looked like a tornado hit it. Cushions pulled some off the couch, papers spread about. “Cal.” Jake set down his briefcase and took a step into his living room. A rolling sound precluded the painful crash into Jake’s shin. Before he could even say ‘ow’ he heard the tiny little voice giggle. Staring ahead, Jake’s eyes widened, and he slowly looked down. Total surprise took over Jake when he peered down, hands on hips, to the bald baby, towering like a giant over the smiling infant in the walker that was pressed to his legs. “Cal!”

  Cal came from the dining room,. “Hey, Jake.” She kissed him. “We have company.”

  “I see. Who’s it belong to?”

  “It? Him. Lisa next door. She burned her hand and went to the infirmary. I said I’d watch him.”

  “Why?”

  Cal laughed. “Jake, come on. You’re the Ex-O. You have a certain responsibility.”

  “Not to be a babysitter to every bald child on base.”

  “One child. And look at him.” Cal bent down lifting up the pudgy baby from the walker. “Wanna hold him?”

  “No.”

  Cal propped the baby in her arms. “Cute, huh?” She snickered at Jake’s grumble as she ran her hand over the boy’s head. “Guess what his name is?”

  “I don’t know.” Jake still stared at the child.

  “Come on, Jake, guess.”

  “Um . . .” Jake shrugged his shoulders. “Bart.” He began to walk past them.

  “Bart?” Cal snickered. “No. Rickie.”

  Jake stopped cold. He spun around.
<
br />   “Yeah. Rickie.” Cal smiled and placed the baby back in the walker. “As soon as Lisa told me his name, I took an immediate liking to him.”

  “Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

  Confused, Cal looked at Jake. “What do you mean?”

  “I . . . I need a beer.” Jake took off his uniform jacket, set it on a dining room chair, and walked to the kitchen.

  When Cal got there, Jake was opening a beer. “Jake?”

  “Cal.” Jake, serious, shut the fridge. “Babe, first you find a house with a nursery, then I come home and find you’re the neighborhood nanny.”

  “Jake, it’s one . . .”

  “I thought . . . I thought you said you didn’t want any more kids after Jessie.”

  Cal swallowed. “Jake, I’m sorry if I gave that implication.”

  “No.” Jake closed his eyes and shook his head. He kissed Cal. “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s been on my mind and I’m projecting it as you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Cal said, looking back to check on baby Rickie who was playing with a remote control.

  “Getting married. Getting a house. Living in this family neighborhood.” Jake sadly shrugged. “I mean, if you want a house, I can give you a house. A new car, it’s yours. Hell, if you wanted the world, I would see how close I could get to giving it to you on a platter. But . . .but this . . .” Jake pointed to baby Rickie. “If you wanted a child, I fail you, and I don’t like that.” He closed one eye and looked at her while taking a drink of his beer.

  “Jake.” Cal stepped to him. “I told you it is not important. And I meant it when I said I don’t want kids. Jessie got all my maternal love, and she took a big chunk of that when she was killed. And Rickie . . . Rickie, he took the rest. All I want is you in my life.” She touched his cheek. “Besides, kids would cramp that lifestyle you and I have and plan on having.”

  “You’re right. And . . . and. . . fuck, Cal, he’s getting my remote wet.” Jake marched over to baby Rickie. “Give me that.” He snatched it from the baby’s hand, a long line of drool trailing from the remote as Jake pulled it a way. “Uh.” Jake held it up in disgust.