More Than a Job

Bradley

When her eyes opened, I could tell something was different. I was expecting to see fear, but that satisfying emotion was absent. Her eyes sprang open as if she knew she was in a fight and had no intention of quietly fading away.

Cecille

I came to myself and immediately felt pain. My throat was raw. My neck pulsed as if his hands were still squeezing. My cheek stung and I knew my eye was swollen. Without looking, I knew there were bruises around my wrists. One red hot spot on my thigh reminded me where his knee had pinned me down. Despite these pains, I knew nothing was broken. That was not his way. His way. I had gone along with his way for the last time. This time, I would do things my way.

Bradley

Usually, she began apologizing right away. Now she only stared at me as though taking my measure and observing the surroundings.

“Well?”, I said, “Do you have anything to say for yourself”? She just kept looking at me. I leaned toward her, expecting her to cower as always. She did not move an inch, nor did she slide her gaze away from me. What game was she playing, I wondered.

Cecille

He leaned closer and asked a question. In my mind my voice was even and cold. But in reality, my bruised throat contorted the sound into a raspy whisper.

“What happened, Where are we”?

“We are in your time out room, of course”, he answered. “Obviously you need time to collect yourself and regain perspective.

“But don’t worry, dear”, he said magnanimously, “I will make your apologies to our guests. You take as long as you need.”

He again leaned down to me. This time he kissed my forehead gently, rose and left the room.

As his lips touched my skin I was flooded with memories/visions of parties, trips and gifts. I saw friends and music and laughter. His friends, his parties.

“Where is Brenda? Where is Mother”. These thoughts pressed through the flashing images.

Where was I indeed? And what had happened to me?

I thought of mother, “I am so proud of you” she had said.

All it took was a clerical job and an apartment across town to extract those words from her. She whispered them quickly while she administered a tight hug and peck on my cheek as father wrapped her coat around her shoulders and whisked her away.

When did that happen? I thought just as another image arrived. This one of Brenda. She was out of her mind with alcohol and who knows what else.

“Hey Sis, are you in this show too?” she slurred.

“What are you doing here?” I asked taking her arm.

“Oh, you know”, she said gesturing to the older gentleman who was accompanying her. I turned my most innocent gaze on the man and apologized for my sister’s behavior, thanked him profusely for offering to get her home safely but assured him that I would see to her from here. Before he could say anything, I guided my sister away, as quickly as we could manage on her stumbling legs. The man did not follow or protest, though I felt his eyes on us until we turned the corner. That ‘gentleman’, the same man who had just left me here to ‘make my apologies’ to our guests.

Bradley

“Who needs more wine?”, I say as I sweep back into the festivities. With live music, a poker game going in one corner and big screen TV playing non-stop sports with individual headphones in another, I had hardly been missed. I begin making my way around stopping to pour or chat for a few moments. At the poker table, Albert looks up from his hand. “Where’ve you been, and where is Cecille, Denise is asking about her”?

“She had another of her episodes”, I say smoothly, “She has a migraine and is resting.” Albert looks at me for a moment. “Maybe you should take her to see someone. She has been having those al lot lately.”

“Oh you know Cecille, She is determined to get through this on her own.”

He looks me up and down, and I know I have spoken too quickly.

“Yes” he says, after a beat. “Women can be stubborn.” He turns his attention back to his cards.

I continue my rounds, offering wine and chatter as I go. From the corner of my eye I see a shape move across the room toward the kitchen. Surely Cecille has not emerged so soon from her room. I scanned the room. It does not appear that anyone has noticed. I hold up the empty wine bottle toward the small knot of people I have just joined. I excuse myself, promising to bring back refills for the group. Backing away, I turn and head toward the kitchen. As I make my way across the room, I notice Albert watching me. I know he suspects something, but I cannot think about that now. I will encourage Cecille back into her room, then deal with Albert.

He may be right that I should take her to see someone. I cannot get that look on her face out of my head. As if she knew something was off somehow. They assured me that she would never recover any memories.

He had a nagging doubt now. I will take her in for a checkup, I decide.

I am finalizing these thoughts when I enter the kitchen. I quickly scan for Cecille.

Searing pain, then I am falling. As I hit the floor I see red pooling around my face then…Nothing.

Cecille

I take three deep breaths to recover from the events of the last few moments. I am relieved that I was able to hit the jugular vein with my swollen eye and bruised wrist. I move carefully around the body so as not to step in the spreading blood. As expected, Albert is waiting outside the back door. He says nothing as he hands me the keys to a waiting car and a large envelope containing what I need to put this case behind me. We nearly have this routine down to a science, yet this time, it feels different. It feels personal somehow.

Was that man more than our target? Why was he with my sister. Was that an actual memory or some kind of projection?

These thoughts swirl around in my head as I drive. I arrived at my recovery location but barely remembered how I got here. I shower and devour the food left on the tray in my room. The phone in the envelope rings. I answer on the 3rd ring.

“Hello”

“Hi C. I understand you finished another assignment tonight. Congratulations! Shall we debrief in the morning?”

“Yes. This one seemed different. I can’t seem to shake it off, even with the food platter you sent.”

“Well, we DO need to talk if food is no distraction. Let’s chat tomorrow. Does 11:15 in the morning work?”

“Yes, I will see you then.”

Brenda

I was aware of pain. Pain in my wrists and neck and inner thigh. I knew my eye was swollen. I could feel his presence, leering over me, willing me to wake up and apologize for making him take extreme action again.

I could not face him again. I remained still and breathed as steadily as I could.

Eventually, he kissed my forehead lightly and left the room.