Tennessee

"Can you help me with this answer, Jarod?" Miss Parker asked. She looked at the boy beside her in her science class. "Jarod?"

Jarod turned to look back at her. He looked toward her answer. "Looks good, Clarice, but why are you calling me Jarod? It's Brandon."

Miss Parker scratched her head. "Why are you calling me, Clarice, Jarod? Is that supposed to be funny?"

Seattle, Washington

"Hey there!" Miss Parker waved at the customers. "Got two scoops right here. One for little Jarod."

"Tony," he corrected.

"One for little Debbie."

"Megan."

"I'm terrible with names," she laughed. "Hey? Who wants a Centre special on top? Whipped cream and a whole lot of fudge?"

"Don't you mean the Circus special, Ice Cream Lady?"

New York

Miss Parker looked at her fare so far. "So, Mister Sydney, is there any place I can drop you off in particular?"

"Weaver, Mister Weaver," he corrected her., "and why are we heading the wrong way?"

"Didn't you say you wanted to go to The Centre?" She asked. "I thought you wanted to go to a nearby Centre?"

"No, I never said that!"

"Shoot," she muttered. "Sorry, Mister Sydney Sir, where is it you need to go?" She fidgeted around for something. She was craving something. "Hey, you got a cigarette on you?"

—-----------------------------------

Georgia. Nowhere

Sydney had called up Broots to do a search on the woman Miss Parker now claimed she had been, and what he found was shocking.

Jarod was still trying to wrap his mind around it. "Missing seven months. Rene Grossberg." The woman Parker just said she had been. The one busily rubbing her sleeves, worried. Car description, Toyota. Lived in Peyton, Colorado. Three kids. Married to a Stephen Grossberg over six years ago. Over six years ago. She gave Sydney and Jarod all the details they wanted as they each made a statement on how they found her.

"So I was wandering around? You don't remember how or why? Anyone around me?" She desperately wanted answers, but they couldn't give them.

"No," Sydney lied easily to her face, in only the way he could. "Both of us are psychiatrists, and I'm afraid we were riding through when we noticed a woman just standing in the middle of the field. We brought you here in hope of helping you out of your catatonic state." He patted her shoulder, a friendly smile on her face. "I am glad you will be reunited with your family soon, Rene."

"Thank you." She looked at her clothes. Probably scared about the rags she wore and all of the memory loss.

Jarod didn't blame her. Anything could be going through this woman's mind. "At least you're safe now. Back to your husband and kids." Something about that, of course. "Where you'll be happy. Excuse me."

He moved out of the way. It was hard to breathe. He swore it was Parker. Everyone did. He was with a stranger all this time? I knew something was wrong. She was more emotional. The visions, and the sharing. Everything. 

How could they have those conversations? How could she know about The Centre? How could she know him so well that he, a master at pretending to others himself, couldn't see it?

"My God!"

That was extreme for Sydney to say. Jarod came back over and saw just why. "Catherine Parker?" But, no. She died. Having Ethan. Yet, a woman with the same haircut, the same kind of grace, charm and an unbelievable smile full of hope and cheer. Older now. Sydney's age. Yet it was miraculously her, getting out of a car.

"Hello, Sydney," she remarked. "How are you?"

Sydney just blinked. "It's . . ."

"It's good to see you too." She smiled at Sydney briefly before going to see Rene. "Hello." She patted her hands. "Everything's okay now. Your name?"

Rene stared at her with a slight nod. "Rene . . . Grossberg?"

"Ah. Hello, Rene." Catherine let go of her hand and tucked some of her hair back. "Do you know who I am?"

A gentle shake of the head. "Momma?"

"Yes. Now, be a good lady and just wait a moment. The men here are going to have to catch up." She looked back toward Sydney. "I am going to need a favor? Rene Grossberg and her entire family will need to hide. Somewhere that The Centre won't find them. Please find someplace." She turned to see Jarod. "Hm. You're a familiar one?"

"Jarod." Catherine Parker. Jarod had no idea how to react. She should have been dead since the early seventies. She had somehow faked her death a second time?

"The boy from The Centre." She remembered. She looked toward Sydney. "He's really grown, hasn't he?"

"Catherine?" Sydney was still shocked too. “You were the one who wanted to meet out here?”

"You knew my mother," Jarod of course had to start with that. Of all things. Now?

From death, never being found, not a shred of evidence of her existence. She was just standing there, speaking casually to them. "Sometimes a simple hello isn't enough?"

"Not when you've been presumed dead since the early 70's!" Sydney’s temper flared a moment. "Where have you been?"

"Safe," she said. "Living my life. Everyone was safe." She gestured to Rene. "Poor Rene, I’m sorry." 

Jarod had a million questions his mind wanted her to answer, but his heart was set on one. "Where is your daughter, Miss Parker?"

"Straight and to the point. She meant a great deal to you," Catherine said. 

Meant? "Is she . . .?"

"She is and she isn't," Catherine said. "Just like I am, and I am not."

No. "I don't have time for games right now," Jarod said desperately. He glanced at Rene. "Is Rene Grossberg, Miss Parker?" He should have that answer, but he needed to hear it from Catherine Parker.

"None of them are Miss Parker, Jarod, and all of them are. Give me a few minutes to share my story, and you'll understand." Catherine took a deep breath and watched as another car came forward. "This never should have happened. There will be much blood upon Maggie’s hands."

Jarod did a double take as someone else who looked like Catherine was coming down toward them in her car. She came out. Slightly different hairstyle, but the same kind of clothes and expression. “What?”

"Am I late?" The woman who looked like Catherine, looked at Catherine. "I am. Hello."

"Hello," Catherine said.

The woman smiled at Sydney. "Hello, Sydney." She looked at Jarod. "Hello, Jarod. I'd say you've grown, but I've already said that, haven't I?"

"I'm." There was nothing else for it. "Tripping out," Jarod remarked. "Catherine and Catherine? Miss Parker not being Miss Parker? What's going on?! Where is the real Miss Parker, and which one of you knew my mother?!"

"Real," Catherine said. She looked toward the other Catherine counterpart as they exchanged a dialogue toward him. "What's real?"

"What's not real?"

"Who am I verses who died?"

"Died in an elevator."

"Died giving birth."

"What is the meaning of real?" they said together.

"This two in one will get strange for them," Catherine said to the other woman. "You should go. They will press on you harder."

The other Catherine nodded. "Are any others coming, do you think?"

"I don't think so. They would probably find us and call."

" . . . okay." The other woman that looked like Catherine went toward Jarod. “Gentle with Jarod. He's obsessed."

"Where is the real Miss Parker?!" Jarod demanded again. He wasn't used to being kept in the dark by things going on around him anymore. He didn't like it! He even found Catherine Parker alive, with a twin. "Where is my mother? Where are they both? Are they together?"

"One moment, as one of us takes our leave." Catherine looked at the one who looked like her go back toward her car. "Okay."

—---------------------------------

Catherine gave it a little bit of time. Her friend Sydney was so overwhelmed, and the young boy she once knew had grown up to be quite a man. An interrupter at that. "I'm afraid I won't have much grace in this matter, Sydney." She looked toward Sydney. "This explanation will be rushed for the sake of time. I'm sorry." Sydney nodded toward her. "My friend, do you remember your work at The Centre?" She touched her chest delicately. "My, listen to me? Like I'm talking in the past, you still work there." She moved her hand again. "Sydney? You worked with twins. Do you understand what's happening?"

Oh, she could see Jarod behind her slightly, looking like he was angry. Being ignored. Well, under the circumstances, she would do the best she could.

"I understand that The Centre did something to Miss Parker's twin," Sydney said. "The Centre apparently even hid the fact that you were a twin."

"No. That's not it. I've called my boy here, but he's not going to make it in time. He's too far." She looked toward Jarod. "He will call instead to comfort Jarod." So he'd stop bothering her. She smiled at Jarod. "Now."

Jarod took out his phone and flipped it open. Ethan was calling? "Hello?"

"Hello, Jarod. Is she there? The voice? In person finally?"

"Keep him on the line," Catherine insisted. There. That would help Jarod feel more involved without having to address him much. She turned back toward Sydney. Now she could continue again. "Do you know what it was all for? The testing over the twins? Why The Centre wanted it? Why The Centre wanted so much information over it?"

"Some twins share a great bond," Sydney said. "Some are very in tune to each other."

"Yes. Some going as far as being psychically connected." She looked away a moment toward the sky. "What happens in the closest of connections, Sydney? Please tell me."

"The closest," he confirmed to her. "In the closest, they share the same pain. If you zapped one, for instance, the other would move like they felt it. They share similar words, each finishing each other's sentences. Sometimes, they were so interconnected, it was hard to find a personality difference between them."

"They were like the same person," Catherine said to him. "Yes. They were. Give it a moment, I told Ethan to hang up." Now she could address Jarod as he closed his phone slowly staring at her. "Ethan told me about your clone, Jarod. The Gemini Project?" Ah, Jarod just stood up absolutely straight. He was starting to get the hint once she moved Miss Parker out of the equation and placed in Ethan who heard 'the voice of his mother'. She could hear his voice too. All of them could now. Such a nice boy.

She looked toward Jarod. "It's not perfect, but your genes, ooh. They must have been the absolute toughest to keep straight, Dear. It still amazes me that they managed to do it. No matter how much I see."

"Does someone named Maggie have something to do with this?" Jarod was starting to question more closely. “She said that name right before she stopped being . . .” 

“Oh, Maggie has everything to do with it.”

"Catherine." Sydney moved closer. "Catherine, we need to understand what you are saying. Are you saying that Maggie and Miss Parker have a connection that are as close as a twin?"

Catherine brought out her ID toward Sydney. "It's not fake. That's who I am. Look at the dates. Do you recognize me specifically? Anything about me?" She watched Sydney examine the dates.

"Momma?" Rene called out. "I have to get home, I can't wait. I have to get to them. I have to get out." She looked toward Jarod again but didn't say anything. "I have to go now."

Catherine knew she wouldn't address it. She was aware of the truth now, which was most likely interfering in her real life.

"Do you remember anything?" Jarod pressed her. "Rene?"

" . . . I know that you're a good person who'll take good care of the children left in my care," she said. "I can't anymore. I have a husband and three children. I have to get out. Things just became dangerous, every second longer- I have to go!"

"I know, Dear." Catherine stood up and hugged her. "Take one of their cars and get out as fast as you can. I have to do my best to save who I can." She kissed Rene on her forehead. "Be a good girl? Get going. Sydney? I'm going to need your keys for her." He was reluctant but he seemed to understand the need and parted with his keys. She gave her one more hug, not knowing if she'd even arrive safely at home or not, before letting go and paying attention back to the guys.

"Do you need help?" Jarod probably couldn't help himself.

"I will be fine," she insisted. "You're needed here. Just do what you can." Then, she left.

Catherine watched him try to go after her. "She can take care of herself. She's right, innocents could die if we don't hurry. We all need to talk."

The Centre: 1940's

Catherine stared ahead at two people sitting down. Two grown women. They looked identical. She felt a connection to both of them. Was that her grandparent?

"Hello," she and one of the woman said at the same time. "My name's Catherine."

"Excellent. Good job," the doctor who observed them said. "I am going to hold a card up-"

"Five stars." All three of them already knew.

Catherine stared at the two women again. To one, she felt more distant, while to the other? She felt. Like she was watching some future of herself. She reached out to her.

"Don't touch her, Cathy," the woman said. "She's dirty. She's not real."

Not real? The young Catherine didn't understand. She could feel, eat, taste and smell. She had affection for others. Why was she not real?

Catherine looked at all of the counterpart children around her. There were four more, staring at her in just the same way. Like they were all mirrors of her. "Hello," they all said at the same time. "My name's Catherine." They each pursed their mouth slightly, then they each held up their hands and waved at each other. Then they all looked out toward a window at a man making notes uttering 'brilliant'.

Catherine didn't see it as brilliant. She smiled, as they all did, and they all spoke again.

"Catherine 1, when I give the word, I want everything that is blue that you can think of. Catherine 2, I want the same thing except with the color red. Catherine 3, the same thing except with purple. Catherine 4, the same thing except with yellow."

Oh. Catherine could think of some things. The sky. Water.

Blueberries.

She heard that. She smiled at the Catherine that somehow shared that. That Catherine had the color red, so she would help her too. Roses. As they went, each of them seemed to share with each other their thoughts and ideas without ever uttering a word. By the time the doctor asked for the objects, they each had over fifty in a space of thirty seconds, each rattling off their lists.

"Big lists." The doctor wrote down information. "Did you . . . find a way to exchange information among your . . . selves?" They all shook their heads. "Brilliant. It really was passed along."

Catherine lived at The Centre with the counterparts to her. The doctor took care of her and her soul sisters. Not sisters, but clones, and so closely bonded that soul sisters seemed to fit. Each of them had been called Catherine, but they all instinctively knew which was which. One day, she struggled as she was taken to medical. They told her that she had grown up enough to leave The Centre, but The Centre was her home! She didn't want to forget them. She didn't want to leave her sisters.

1962

Catherine approached her soul sister. Although forced to forget each other, when the Catherine that married Mister Parker had cried out in the largest anguish any of them had ever felt? They had all reconnected through her emotion. Her soul sister was in a terrible state. Her husband Mister Parker was now gone at work. Catherine approached her, playing with her child. Only . . .

she was not her child. 

Catherine reached for her sister to hug her. "We are all here. Together, we will all get through this." It wasn't needed to say out loud but it sounded even more reassuring. 

At birth, the Catherine who married Mister Parker had lost her son to The Centre, but even worse? Her second child was now gone, and replaced.

No one out of the loop knew the truth, but that little baby’s mother had felt it. The Centre had wanted to start a new line of ‘Catherine’, and they wanted to use her daughter. New habits. New experiments. 

The real baby was probably lost to the cloning, considering how hard it had been. The Catherine’s genes had worked remarkably well in cloning, but even the first original Catherine to be cloned didn’t survive it.

The little toddler girl strolling around fell slightly. She was only one of probably a dozen The Centre made. Who knew? They might have made even more this time around. "What have you called the new one?" Catherine asked her. “Can you bear this new one after what happened?”

"Miss Parker,” that Catherine replied. “I will call all of them Miss Parker. It's fitting.” She hugged her tighter. "We had Catherine as our name. Everyone needs a name, and any they make will be my child. I don't know how to get out. I can't leave."

"I know."

"They have my daughters. They are still my daughters. I can't leave without them."

"I know." Of course they were. They understood that connection better than anyone. "We will help you. As long as a Catherine is here at The Centre, that's all they will know. We will share the physical burden to watch over all of them. No matter what."

1971

Each Catherine held each other, mourning the loss of the feeling. They would never be the same. They had been tricked into being helped by Raines, and one of the Catherine's died giving birth. At least, that is what they had to assume for the one who died could no longer be in their shared memories. She could have been killed too. It was risky to assume either way.

The one who had birthed the original Miss Parker needed the most help to keep it together. To her, it should have been her fate. She had been the one to marry Mister Parker. 

Each Catherine had shared the duty of taking place over the other at The Centre, so that responsibilities could be taken to rescue and care for the children. Those kidnapped by The Centre. Those made by The Centre.

There were so many that didn’t even know they were owned by The Centre. They lived outside of The Centre, but it still ran their lives. They weren’t free, just another point of research.

Now there was no way to help them anymore. The current Centre Insider Catherine was dead, and Raines was aware of their schemes. To interfere with the children would put all the others in danger. This was not a simple task to undergo, it was simply too much for them. They did comfort the new baby Ethan as they could, with their own connections to him.

But there was nothing more they could do. The daughters would have to stay in The Centre’s grasp, and to corrupt that plan would send every one of them into danger. They could not risk a rescue of more than 200 lives safely.

They would keep an eye out for each other, and an eye out for their children. But they would never interact.