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Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Pretender and its characters don’t belong to me. But since those who do own them won’t use them I’ll just borrow them for a while as we wait for the DVD release. (March 15th, 2005 in the U.S.) : )
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Author’s note: Many thanks go out to Heidi for the spell check and to rev2004 who remembered something I had forgotten. Previous chapters have been adjusted accordingly. Sorry that this chapter has taken so long compared to earlier posts. I’ve spent the last couple of days with a neglected spouse. – Hope you find this worth the wait.
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The Door of Memory
Part 8 – By Phenyx
12/02/04
“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory. “
Susan B. Anthony
-
Jarod was beyond frustration. It was not an emotion he dealt with well. Never had been.
For the most part, Jarod had been a patient soul, even as a small child. But when confused, he had tended toward abrupt displays of frustration. Only a couple of years out of diapers, Jarod had already understood far more than any normal child. Yet there were still concepts he was unable to comprehend, human behaviors that his young brain could not process. He simply lacked the chemical and hormonal maturity to understand.
He had the mind of a genius, but the physical body was barely more than a toddler. This sometimes caused a disparity between knowing something was amiss and fully comprehending the issue at hand. Such situations caused Jarod a great deal of impotent frustration.
As a result, Jarod’s first two years within the Centre had been particularly difficult ones. On more than one occasion, the bewildered, upset little boy had fled the sim-lab, running down corridors while tears blinded his eyes. Sydney had spent years training the child, molding him, forcing him to focus these bursts of tantrum into more productive coping mechanisms.
By the time Jarod was seven, his behavior had been radically altered. He no longer fidgeted when he became tense. He had stopped trying to escape the simulations. At the age when other children were learning to cope without naptime, Jarod was directing his anxiety into an eerie stillness. He could be perfectly motionless for hours, staring intently at a problem until the answers made themselves known.
Only one observable physical characteristic of Jarod’s apprehension had remained. Remained in fact, even to this day. Whenever Jarod became frustrated or puzzled, his fingers drummed an unerringly steady beat on his thigh.
It was this anxious tapping that Jarod had started nearly an hour ago. It had continued throughout the journey to the airport. If any of Jarod’s companions had noticed his uneasy fingertips, none of them had remarked upon it.
Miss Parker and Emily sat in the back seat, discussing salons and perfumes and other such feminine nonsense. Sydney watched from the front passenger seat, seemingly content to just listen to the two ladies talk. It was all perfectly amiable, casually pleasant and completely inane.
It was incredibly annoying.
Jarod wanted nothing more than to have a serious discussion with Miss Parker. But, each time he tried, she skillfully rebuffed him. Having his little sister and Sydney along as witnesses wasn’t helping matters.
When they arrived at the terminal, Jarod was able to catch a moment alone with Miss Parker as he lifted her luggage from the trunk. “Don’t do this, Parker,” Jarod hissed. He leaned in close to her, so close that he could have kissed her if he’d tried. Parker turned away as she took the handle of the suitcase in Jarod’s hand. He clasped her hand in his, refusing to release his grip. “Don’t,” he repeated.
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag,” Parker said firmly.
“You know what I mean,” Jarod pleaded.
Parker nodded but refused to look him in the eye. “Yes, I know,” she whispered.
“I’m begging here,” Jarod added softly.
“I have to go,” Parker said.
“No, you don’t.”
Parker’s hard glare rose to meet his. “I want to,” she replied in an icy voice.
Jarod released the suitcase as if it had burned him. He stared at her in wounded silence. As the group made their way into the building, Jarod trailed behind them. After the bags had been checked, Jarod and Emily accompanied Sydney and Miss Parker to the corridor that led to the security checkpoint.
“I’ll see you soon, Jarod,” Sydney promised as he hugged the younger man goodbye. Without a ticket, Jarod wasn’t permitted to walk his friends all the way to their boarding gate.
Parker’s straight back and haughty demeanor screamed of detachment. Jarod could feel that glass wall between them again. She wouldn’t permit him to enter her personal space.
“When will I see you again?” Jarod asked morosely.
Parker shrugged.
“You could come with Sydney during the holidays,” Jarod offered.
“I could,” Parker answered. Her tone was sarcastic and brittle, indicating that there was little chance of it happening.
“Why do you have to be like this?” Jarod bit as his anger boiled to the surface.
“This is who I am, Rat,” she replied.
Jarod shook his head. “No. This is who you pretend to be.”
Parker sighed sadly. “We’ve pretended for too long, Jarod. It seems that neither of us knows how to stop doing it.”
“I’ve stopped,” Jarod said.
“Sure you have.” With that, Parker turned away.
Jarod watched her walk down the corridor never noticing the worried glance Sydney tossed him over one shoulder. Parker didn’t look back. Long after she and Sydney had both disappeared from view, Jarod stood there, hoping against all hope that she would come back.
A soft touch on his arm finally reminded Jarod that he was not alone. Emily was at his side, gazing up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.
“I suppose we should head back to the house,” Jarod said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
“That’s it?” Emily asked. “You’re just going to go home and act like nothing has happened?”
Jarod’s eyes were hard and blank. It was the shuttered look he used to try and hide from the cameras at the Centre. He stared at his sister in silence.
“She’s right, you know.” Emily crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “You are pretending. You’re pretending to be the perfect son, the perfect brother. You want to act like everything is just peachy.” Emily shook her head sadly. “Its not, Jarod. I know that. We all know it. I hear you tiptoeing around the house in the middle of the night. I’ve heard you having your nightmares.”
Emily went on. “You think you can lock it all away, the same way you lock up that damned silver case of yours.” She placed one hand on Jarod’s arm. “I don’t know why you feel the need to hide from us. But you do.”
“I’m not hiding,” Jarod denied.
“In the last two days,” Emily said. “I have seen you more irritable and on edge than in the last two years combined. You’ve been rude, self-involved and bad-tempered.”
“I’m sorry.” Jarod heaved a sigh.
“Don’t be,” Emily smiled. “I found it rather refreshing to know my brother is a human being. I was getting a little weary of the saintly routine. Makes for high standards for a sibling to be compared to, Bro.” Hugging Jarod around one arm, Emily placed her head on his shoulder. “Do you know what I think?” she asked gently.
Jarod shook his head.
“I think,” she replied. “That having Miss Parker around brought all that selfish lust to the surface. All this time the real you has been buried under a thin layer of propriety.”
“Oh Em, “ Jarod groaned. “You have no idea.” He swallowed hard and tried to explain three decades of his life in only a few words. “The things I have buried are dark terrifying things,” he whispered. “Things I’ve been through, things I’ve done in order to survive.” He looked away, blinking the moisture from his eyes.
Emily placed one hand on her brother’s cheek, and turned his face toward her again. “She knows, doesn’t she?” Emily asked. “That is why your pain is so much closer to the surface when she’s around. She recognizes it and understands.”
“It doesn’t matter what she understands,” Jarod said. “She’s gone now. The game’s over.”
“This isn’t a game, Jarod,” Emily scolded. “This is your life.”
A self-depreciating smile curved Jarod’s lips. “My life is a game, has been for years. I’d run, she’d chase. Those were the rules.”
“Change the rules,” Emily urged. “You aren’t running from her anymore. If anything, she’s the one running away.”
Jarod blinked at his little sister. For a long moment all he could do was gape at her. “I am an idiot,” he finally said in a voice filled with shock. He grinned at his sister. “If she is going to run,” Jarod began.
Emily smiled too as she picked up on her brother’s train of thought. “You need to chase her.”
“And it will be an incredibly easy thing to do,” Jarod said. “Because I know exactly where she is going.” He looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings so that he could find the ticket counters. “Come on,” he commanded, dragging Emily with him.
“The next flight to Delaware isn’t for seven hours,” she observed as they got into the nearest line.
“I’ll have enough time to drive back to the house and grab my things,” Jarod said thoughtfully.
“I have a better idea,” Emily suggested. “Once we get your ticket, let’s find the nearest mall. We can buy whatever you’ll need.”
Jarod cocked his head at her in puzzlement.
Emily shrugged. “It will be easier than trying to explain to Mom that you’re leaving. She can’t stop you if you’re already gone.”
“She couldn’t stop me anyway,” Jarod said.
“Guilt is a powerful thing, Jarod.” Emily smiled playfully at him. “In the hands of a real master, it can be a powerful weapon.”
“Mom and Dad won’t be pleased when they find out you encouraged this odd quest of mine,” Jarod said ruefully.
“They won’t be too upset when I tell them that you’ve gone searching for love.” Emily shrugged. “Its terribly romantic,” she added.
“I hope Parker thinks so,” Jarod said with a frown. “I show up on her doorstep unannounced, she’s just as likely to deck me as to let me in.”
“She’ll let you in,” Emily replied in a confident tone.
“How can you be so sure?” Jarod asked.
“Don’t you know anything, Jarod?” Emily smiled. “A woman doesn’t dance the night away with your hands on her ass unless she’s interested. Trust me, it won’t take much to get back into her bed.”
Jarod swallowed. “I’ve never been in her bed,” he admitted.
“What?”
He shrugged. “We’ve never…”
Emily’s dark eyes sparkled with humor. “No wonder she’s mad at you.”
-
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Author’s note: Many thanks go out to Heidi for the spell check and to rev2004 who remembered something I had forgotten. Previous chapters have been adjusted accordingly. Sorry that this chapter has taken so long compared to earlier posts. I’ve spent the last couple of days with a neglected spouse. – Hope you find this worth the wait.
-
The Door of Memory
Part 8 – By Phenyx
12/02/04
“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory. “
Susan B. Anthony
-
Jarod was beyond frustration. It was not an emotion he dealt with well. Never had been.
For the most part, Jarod had been a patient soul, even as a small child. But when confused, he had tended toward abrupt displays of frustration. Only a couple of years out of diapers, Jarod had already understood far more than any normal child. Yet there were still concepts he was unable to comprehend, human behaviors that his young brain could not process. He simply lacked the chemical and hormonal maturity to understand.
He had the mind of a genius, but the physical body was barely more than a toddler. This sometimes caused a disparity between knowing something was amiss and fully comprehending the issue at hand. Such situations caused Jarod a great deal of impotent frustration.
As a result, Jarod’s first two years within the Centre had been particularly difficult ones. On more than one occasion, the bewildered, upset little boy had fled the sim-lab, running down corridors while tears blinded his eyes. Sydney had spent years training the child, molding him, forcing him to focus these bursts of tantrum into more productive coping mechanisms.
By the time Jarod was seven, his behavior had been radically altered. He no longer fidgeted when he became tense. He had stopped trying to escape the simulations. At the age when other children were learning to cope without naptime, Jarod was directing his anxiety into an eerie stillness. He could be perfectly motionless for hours, staring intently at a problem until the answers made themselves known.
Only one observable physical characteristic of Jarod’s apprehension had remained. Remained in fact, even to this day. Whenever Jarod became frustrated or puzzled, his fingers drummed an unerringly steady beat on his thigh.
It was this anxious tapping that Jarod had started nearly an hour ago. It had continued throughout the journey to the airport. If any of Jarod’s companions had noticed his uneasy fingertips, none of them had remarked upon it.
Miss Parker and Emily sat in the back seat, discussing salons and perfumes and other such feminine nonsense. Sydney watched from the front passenger seat, seemingly content to just listen to the two ladies talk. It was all perfectly amiable, casually pleasant and completely inane.
It was incredibly annoying.
Jarod wanted nothing more than to have a serious discussion with Miss Parker. But, each time he tried, she skillfully rebuffed him. Having his little sister and Sydney along as witnesses wasn’t helping matters.
When they arrived at the terminal, Jarod was able to catch a moment alone with Miss Parker as he lifted her luggage from the trunk. “Don’t do this, Parker,” Jarod hissed. He leaned in close to her, so close that he could have kissed her if he’d tried. Parker turned away as she took the handle of the suitcase in Jarod’s hand. He clasped her hand in his, refusing to release his grip. “Don’t,” he repeated.
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag,” Parker said firmly.
“You know what I mean,” Jarod pleaded.
Parker nodded but refused to look him in the eye. “Yes, I know,” she whispered.
“I’m begging here,” Jarod added softly.
“I have to go,” Parker said.
“No, you don’t.”
Parker’s hard glare rose to meet his. “I want to,” she replied in an icy voice.
Jarod released the suitcase as if it had burned him. He stared at her in wounded silence. As the group made their way into the building, Jarod trailed behind them. After the bags had been checked, Jarod and Emily accompanied Sydney and Miss Parker to the corridor that led to the security checkpoint.
“I’ll see you soon, Jarod,” Sydney promised as he hugged the younger man goodbye. Without a ticket, Jarod wasn’t permitted to walk his friends all the way to their boarding gate.
Parker’s straight back and haughty demeanor screamed of detachment. Jarod could feel that glass wall between them again. She wouldn’t permit him to enter her personal space.
“When will I see you again?” Jarod asked morosely.
Parker shrugged.
“You could come with Sydney during the holidays,” Jarod offered.
“I could,” Parker answered. Her tone was sarcastic and brittle, indicating that there was little chance of it happening.
“Why do you have to be like this?” Jarod bit as his anger boiled to the surface.
“This is who I am, Rat,” she replied.
Jarod shook his head. “No. This is who you pretend to be.”
Parker sighed sadly. “We’ve pretended for too long, Jarod. It seems that neither of us knows how to stop doing it.”
“I’ve stopped,” Jarod said.
“Sure you have.” With that, Parker turned away.
Jarod watched her walk down the corridor never noticing the worried glance Sydney tossed him over one shoulder. Parker didn’t look back. Long after she and Sydney had both disappeared from view, Jarod stood there, hoping against all hope that she would come back.
A soft touch on his arm finally reminded Jarod that he was not alone. Emily was at his side, gazing up at him with those big brown eyes of hers.
“I suppose we should head back to the house,” Jarod said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
“That’s it?” Emily asked. “You’re just going to go home and act like nothing has happened?”
Jarod’s eyes were hard and blank. It was the shuttered look he used to try and hide from the cameras at the Centre. He stared at his sister in silence.
“She’s right, you know.” Emily crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “You are pretending. You’re pretending to be the perfect son, the perfect brother. You want to act like everything is just peachy.” Emily shook her head sadly. “Its not, Jarod. I know that. We all know it. I hear you tiptoeing around the house in the middle of the night. I’ve heard you having your nightmares.”
Emily went on. “You think you can lock it all away, the same way you lock up that damned silver case of yours.” She placed one hand on Jarod’s arm. “I don’t know why you feel the need to hide from us. But you do.”
“I’m not hiding,” Jarod denied.
“In the last two days,” Emily said. “I have seen you more irritable and on edge than in the last two years combined. You’ve been rude, self-involved and bad-tempered.”
“I’m sorry.” Jarod heaved a sigh.
“Don’t be,” Emily smiled. “I found it rather refreshing to know my brother is a human being. I was getting a little weary of the saintly routine. Makes for high standards for a sibling to be compared to, Bro.” Hugging Jarod around one arm, Emily placed her head on his shoulder. “Do you know what I think?” she asked gently.
Jarod shook his head.
“I think,” she replied. “That having Miss Parker around brought all that selfish lust to the surface. All this time the real you has been buried under a thin layer of propriety.”
“Oh Em, “ Jarod groaned. “You have no idea.” He swallowed hard and tried to explain three decades of his life in only a few words. “The things I have buried are dark terrifying things,” he whispered. “Things I’ve been through, things I’ve done in order to survive.” He looked away, blinking the moisture from his eyes.
Emily placed one hand on her brother’s cheek, and turned his face toward her again. “She knows, doesn’t she?” Emily asked. “That is why your pain is so much closer to the surface when she’s around. She recognizes it and understands.”
“It doesn’t matter what she understands,” Jarod said. “She’s gone now. The game’s over.”
“This isn’t a game, Jarod,” Emily scolded. “This is your life.”
A self-depreciating smile curved Jarod’s lips. “My life is a game, has been for years. I’d run, she’d chase. Those were the rules.”
“Change the rules,” Emily urged. “You aren’t running from her anymore. If anything, she’s the one running away.”
Jarod blinked at his little sister. For a long moment all he could do was gape at her. “I am an idiot,” he finally said in a voice filled with shock. He grinned at his sister. “If she is going to run,” Jarod began.
Emily smiled too as she picked up on her brother’s train of thought. “You need to chase her.”
“And it will be an incredibly easy thing to do,” Jarod said. “Because I know exactly where she is going.” He looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings so that he could find the ticket counters. “Come on,” he commanded, dragging Emily with him.
“The next flight to Delaware isn’t for seven hours,” she observed as they got into the nearest line.
“I’ll have enough time to drive back to the house and grab my things,” Jarod said thoughtfully.
“I have a better idea,” Emily suggested. “Once we get your ticket, let’s find the nearest mall. We can buy whatever you’ll need.”
Jarod cocked his head at her in puzzlement.
Emily shrugged. “It will be easier than trying to explain to Mom that you’re leaving. She can’t stop you if you’re already gone.”
“She couldn’t stop me anyway,” Jarod said.
“Guilt is a powerful thing, Jarod.” Emily smiled playfully at him. “In the hands of a real master, it can be a powerful weapon.”
“Mom and Dad won’t be pleased when they find out you encouraged this odd quest of mine,” Jarod said ruefully.
“They won’t be too upset when I tell them that you’ve gone searching for love.” Emily shrugged. “Its terribly romantic,” she added.
“I hope Parker thinks so,” Jarod said with a frown. “I show up on her doorstep unannounced, she’s just as likely to deck me as to let me in.”
“She’ll let you in,” Emily replied in a confident tone.
“How can you be so sure?” Jarod asked.
“Don’t you know anything, Jarod?” Emily smiled. “A woman doesn’t dance the night away with your hands on her ass unless she’s interested. Trust me, it won’t take much to get back into her bed.”
Jarod swallowed. “I’ve never been in her bed,” he admitted.
“What?”
He shrugged. “We’ve never…”
Emily’s dark eyes sparkled with humor. “No wonder she’s mad at you.”
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