Total Recall by KB
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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 9 – Breaking the Rules
As Jarod's eyes finally opened, he focused on the sight of Sydney sitting beside the bed, tears pouring from his eyes and down his cheeks. Jarod tried to speak or to move but found himself unable to do so, fear clutching at his chest and making his heart feel like a lump of ice. It was only an instant, however, before Sydney realised the change in the situation and, wiping the drops from his face, he took one of Jarod's hands in both of his and tried to smile. The expression lasted only a fraction of a second before the tears once more appeared. The question in Jarod's eyes was very obvious but Sydney found himself suddenly unable to speak. With an effort, he swallowed the lump in his throat and found the voice he had lost.
"Hello, Jarod. Welcome back to the world."
Kyle sat on the seat where the man who looked so like his father had put him and watched as his grandparents and aunt gathered in the corner of the room, tears pouring down their cheeks. He could understand that they were unhappy but no one had told him the reason and he couldn't bring himself to interrupt. Finally a man with little hair on his head and a worried expression on his face came through the door and stood just inside it. At his appearance the three occupants turned but, as he slowly and sadly shook his head, Kyle saw his grandmother sob as his grandfather placed an arm around her shoulders. The unknown man then walked over and held out a hand to the boy.
"Come on, Kyle. Let's go for a walk."
Kyle linked his fingers and kept his hands in his lap as he politely looked up into the man's face. "My mom always says that I shouldn't talk to strangers."
A half-smile crossed the man's face and then vanished, to be replaced by a look of sadness. "I'm...I was a friend of your mother's and I know she'd want you to come with me. I'm going to take you to see your Daddy. He's awake now."
One of the women looked up. "Jarod's awake?"
"It just happened. Sydney told me to come and get Kyle, but he said he would tell Jarod himself."
"Tell him what?" Kyle wondered silently as he was led out of the door.
"Where's Jennifer? I would have thought she would have been here."
Sydney looked away briefly, trying to gather together what courage he had left after the scene he had witnessed. Finally, knowing Jarod as well as he did, he realized that it was best to be straightforward.
"Jarod, Jennifer went into labor earlier today. The baby was... it was going to be a breach birth but... she died during the labor, of massive hemorrhaging. There was nothing anyone could have done," he continued rapidly, seeing that Jarod, like the others, was struggling to come to terms with what he had heard. "She was gone before they even had a chance to move her into theatre. And... and the baby drowned on the blood before they could deliver it." Sydney leaned over and gently placed one hand on either side of Jarod's head, turning the man to face him. "The last thing she said to me was 'Tell Jarod I love him. And tell him to take care of our boy.' Then she lost consciousness. She died only a few seconds later... with her hand... still wrapped in mine." Sydney took a deep breath but the tears that had begun to form spilled down his cheeks in a flood that deepened as he saw the impact that his news had on the Pretender.
The door opened and Broots led Kyle into the room. Sydney had been ready to prevent the two from entering but he saw that Jarod's attention swung to his son and, as he helped the boy onto the bed, Sydney smiled briefly and then left the room, pushing Broots gently before him.
"Daddy, why is everyone crying?"
The little boy's face was full of trust that here, finally, was a person who would tell him what was happening. He was, therefore, somewhat surprised when his father merely pressed his head down onto the bandaged chest as he was caught up in a harder embrace than many he had experienced. Finally, though, he was allowed to sit up and his father began to speak.
"Mommy's...gone to be with the angels. Remember how we talked about them one night?"
Jarod was suddenly and inwardly grateful that he, Jennifer and Kyle had discussed death and dying one night after a bird that Kyle had found and nursed for several days had finally stopped struggling. The little boy nodded and moved a thumb up towards him mouth. Just as quickly, though, he whipped the hand back down and put it in his lap, looking up at his father.
"So she's not coming back?"
"No, son. It's just us now."
"And Auntie Em’ly an’ Gran’ma and Granpa," the little boy began eagerly, but the look on his father's face stopped him.
"Who?"
"When you were still asleep, these people came into the room and Mommy told me who they all were. They're all in another room. They wanted to come an' see you but that other man wouldn't let them."
Jarod looked at the boy, a light in his eyes for the first time since hearing what Sydney had said. "Go and get them for me. Tell them that I told them to come."
Kyle trotted down the hall but was confronted by the figure of a woman he had never seen, blocking his path and staring down at him.
"'Scuse me," he said politely. "Can I get past please?"
"No." The woman's voice was harsh and aggressive. "Instead you can tell me where your daddy is."
Kyle looked at her and instantly felt that this person wasn't to be trusted. He had been warned several times, by both of his parents, about the possibility that he might meet her and suddenly he knew what to do. Being at a point where several hallways me, he pointed down one that was in a completely different direction from that where his father lay and smiled up at her. "He's down there. The third door on the left."
The woman smiled charmingly at him. "Thank-you. That's very helpful." She spun on her heel and ran towards the room. Kyle watched as she yanked open the door and entered the room. He heard the harsh click as the lock, preventing her from opening the door on the inside, activated and, wearing an expression almost identical to those that his parents had often worn, he turned and entered the room where his relatives, now supplemented by Sydney and the man that Kyle still didn't know, were waiting.
Miss Parker had ceased kicking the door several minutes earlier. She worked out that the room was soundproofed and, from the padded walls and lack of furniture, was presumably intended for use by those who might pose a danger to themselves or to others. 'Well,' she thought ruefully, 'I probably fit into one of those categories.' Only a few more minutes passed before the door was yanked open and Sydney and Broots stood, silently, in the doorway. She was about to speak when she noticed simultaneously the gun in Sydney's hand and the tears, still evident on his cheeks.
"Give me your gun." Despite the tears, his voice was a steady as ever.
"Why?" She tried to snarl but his tones forced the aggression out of her own.
"Because if you don't," the cultured, European accent was heightened, "I will shoot you."
Miss Parker was about to retaliate when she looked in his eyes. The expression that nestled there sucked the aggression out of her and she meekly handed over the weapon that she had retrieved earlier that day.
"What is it?" Having known Sydney for so long, she knew that only a very serious situation could do this to him. "Is Jarod...?"
"What do you care?" Sydney's calm finally broke and he was suddenly screaming at her with such ferocity that she flinched back, noticing idly that Broots had already disappeared. "Despite everything that's happened, you would have marched in there and dragged him back to the Centre, in the state he was in! All you've thought about since this happened is yourself! Not a word, not a query about anything but your own feelings and frustrations, as if you were the most important person in the world! Jennifer should have finished you off when you first arrived, instead of leaving you in that damned room! It would have made things a lot easier!"
Tears had started to pour down his cheeks but he ignored them.
"Now that she's dead and Jarod has to cope without her, and with their son to care for, you're going to stay well way away from them, if I have to take care of it myself!"
Sydney stepped away, slamming the door so hard that the windows rattled. Miss Parker, however, was unable to react. The news that Jennifer was dead was as much of a shock to her as it had been to the others who were now grieving. She slowly slumped down in the corner of a room and sank her head in her hands, struggling to take a deep breath.
Jarod stared at the wall, tears pouring down his cheeks, as he tried to deal with the situation that his heart screamed was not happening. Even the news that his family was finally with him was not enough to drag him out of the numbness that seemed to surround him. He watched blankly as the door opened and a woman that he had only seen briefly, and yet whose image was firmly engraved on his memory, slowly approached the bed, her hands held out to him and the tears on her cheeks showing that she shared his feelings of grief.
"Jarod."
"Mom."
In an instant he was in her arms and he felt her tears as they fell from her face and into his own. It was a feeling that he had often asked Jennifer to describe to him and now it was as though he could feel her in the room with him, smiling and telling him that she had told him so. He sighed deeply and felt a stab of pain go through his chest, settling in the places where the bullets had entered.
"I've missed you so much. You know that, don't you?"
"How could I help knowing it? Everything..." His voice trailed off as emotion made him temporarily speechless. Finally he looked up as she stroked his head and face, as though unable to believe that he was really there. "You aren't going to leave now, are you? You're staying?"
"Of course. Now that I've got you again, I'll never let you go."
"Promise?" The eyes that looked up held the same expression that the woman had seen in the boy's face so many years earlier and her response was to hold him tighter, kissing him gently on the forehead.
"Not even the Centre could part us now."
A tremor went through Jarod at the mention of the organization and his mother immediately drew back slightly so that she could look down into his face. "I know how hard it's going to be, without Jennifer, but I want you to know that she was always thinking about you. She organized for you to be here and it was through information she made available that told us where to come. Before she went into the delivery room, she made me promise that I would help you bring up Kyle to be a credit to you both. Your father, Emily, James and I are going to honor that promise. See if we don't."
"She knew?"
"I think she suspected that something was wrong. And she might have struggled harder if she thought that you were going to be left alone. Jarod, she had a hard time. Don't begrudge her the happiness that she's got now."
"But I miss her!" The exclamation broke from him and his eyes were suddenly full of tears once more.
"And no doubt she misses you, too. Jarod, despite everything, you know that she loves you. When a person dies, that love still goes on. It becomes deeper, more personal. And you know that she'll be yours forever, going through life." Margaret sat gently on the edge of the bed and placed one hand on that of her son's, leaving the other cradling his cheek. "There was a time when we thought that you and your brother had died. We received a message telling us it had happened and, for several weeks, we had no choice but to believe it."
"But you didn't really believe it?" Jarod had become sufficiently interested in the story to stop thinking about his own grief and concentrate on that of his mother.
"I tried to." She sighed and smiled slightly. "After I learned that my mother, your grandmother, had died, I felt as though I could hear her, that she was still with me. But when I thought I'd lost my boys forever, somehow I knew that you were still alive. And, just sometimes, it was almost as though I could even feel your pain. When Harriet came to tell us that you were still alive, it only confirmed what I already thought."
Jarod felt tears slip down his face and, as his mother gently reached up to wipe them away, he looked up, seeing the grief in her eyes even as she smiled down at him. "When your father became friends with some Native Americans, they taught him a proverb. 'When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in a manner so that when you die the world cries and you rejoice.' Don't forget that even if you mourn over your loss, Jennifer won't want you to dwell too much on it. And you have your son..."
As if on cue, the door to the room opened and Kyle burst in, running over to the bed and pulling himself up onto it. Jarod wiped the tears from his face with one hand and gently hugged the boy with the other.
"Daddy, can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," Jarod responded, with a watery attempt at a smile.
"You remember when we talked about Charlie dying, you said that he was happy and so we should be happy that he wasn't in pain any more?"
"We did say that, you're right."
"So why is everyone crying ‘bout Mommy? If she's happy now, shouldn't we be happy too?"
Jarod smiled and blinked away the tears that filled his eyes again. "Kyle, people don't cry for the person that died. They cry because they're left behind and they'll be lonely."
"But we won't, will we?" Kyle snuggled up against his father. "'Cos we’ve got each other."
Jarod's arms closed around his son and he watched as his mother got up from her seat on the bed and, blowing him a kiss, left the room.
Miss Parker sat in the corner of the room, her arms wrapped around her legs and her face lowered onto her knees. It wasn't a position her body was used to and her muscles were starting to cramp when the door was thrown open. She waited for several seconds before she looked up and saw the figure of her father in the doorway. Even then she didn't get up immediately but waited until the sweeper came over and pulled her to her feet.
"Where is he?"
Miss Parker's voice was soft, almost inaudible in reply. "He was here. I don't know now."
"Speak properly to the Chairman."
Miss Parker was only slightly surprised to hear the harsh voice of the sweeper and the expectant look on her father's face that told her he had taken advantage of the absence of the three of them to make a push for power within the Centre. He had obviously succeeded and that meant, she realized quickly, that Lyle must have died. It would have been impossible, even with Lyle in the situation that she had last seen him, for her father to gain his current position if Lyle was still alive. Receiving a shake from the sweeper, she looked at the floor, determined to avoid making any kind of contact with her father. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she saw him nod slightly and it was no surprise when she was grabbed by the shoulder and shoved into the opposite corner of the room. For a second she felt his gaze and even without looking she could feel her father's scornful eyes on her before the door was slammed shut and she was alone again.
Jarod looked up from the small, red book in his hand as the chair was wheeled up the path of a house. He felt the hand on his father resting on his shoulder, as he carefully maneuvered the chair with the other, and smiled.
"Jarod, we've been dreaming for years of bringing you here. Welcome home."
The little boy, marching a little ahead of the group, turned and ran back to his father. "Are we really going to live here? All of us?" Jarod put his arm around the boy and, with the help of his mother, pulled his son into the chair.
"Would you like to?"
"Oh, yes! At least, I would've liked best to go home with you and Momma, but if God needs her more than we do, then I’d love to live here always with you!"
Jarod swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to smile as he nodded and held his son more tightly in his arms. "Did you remember to thank God last night that He gave her to us, even for a little while?"
The little head nodded earnestly. "And I asked him to make sure we would all be together and safe for a long time." There was a long pause before the boy spoke again. "What happened to that woman, back at the hospital?"
Jarod looked at where Sydney was walking beside him. "Yes, what did happen to her?"
"After your son trapped her in the padded room, we left her there until we were ready to go. But," Sydney paused, not wanting to upset Jarod more than he could help, "I saw a car pull up as we left. I think her father was inside and, since she and I left the Centre, he's worked his way up the top rung. He regained all of the power that he'd lost and I doubt..." Sydney's voice trailed off but Jarod picked up his train of thought.
"Oh God, he'll kill her! She's failed for so long and if he's succeeded without her, she won't stand a chance. Sydney, we have to help her."
"You'll do no such thing." Jarod, even as Kyle jumped off the chair, was ready to tear off the blanket which lay over his legs but a hand on his arm caused him to look up and he saw a determined expression, familiar to anyone who had seen Jarod when he was working on his pretends, on his mother's face. "I don't care if he puts her up against a wall. You're not going anywhere near her."
"But, Mom..."
"Jarod," the voice was soft and came from over his head. "I don't think you really need to worry about Miss Parker. As we were leaving, I saw Mr. Miller arrive. She won't be alone for long."
"And when you're feeling better," Broots put in, "you could always call her. I think, by then, she might feel the need for a little support."
As they entered the house and Jarod was pushed into the living room, he looked up at Sydney. "Do you think I should call her?"
"Do whatever you want." Sydney sounded distracted. "You always do anyway."
Miss Parker hadn't moved since the two other people had left the room. She felt as though her emotions had been drained and the actions of her father had little impact. When the door opened for a second time, she didn't look up but waited for the bullet that she was certain was going to end her life. What she felt instead, however, was the small arms of her half-brother as he hugged her.
"I missed you so much, and I couldn't even come and see you! Did you miss me?"
Miss Parker's response was an automatic hug but the blank expression on her face didn't go unnoticed by the man standing in the doorway.
"Steady, Robert. Give her a bit of space." As the boy moved back, grumbling under his breath, Ben stepped forward and helped Miss Parker to her feet.
"I never even had a chance...to thank her." The whisper was almost inaudible but Ben had been listening for her speech and heard it.
"But she knows now, without you having to say it. Come on, let's go home."
Jarod looked around the room with a sigh of satisfaction. It was only small but it was familiar to him. Only a short time and memories of the few years he had had with his family were coming back to him. The room that had been prepared for Kyle before his disappearance was now given to another Kyle and Jarod knew that this would be a balm for the wounds that his parents had felt at never knowing the other child they had fought so hard to have. A knock at the door tore his thoughts away from the past and into the present.
"Come in."
"Can I?" Emily's face poked into the room, wearing an enquiring look.
"Of course." Jarod carefully crossed his legs as he sat on the bed. "Or would you prefer," he added, teasingly, "to have a conversation from the hallway?"
She walked in, giggling, and sat in a chair that was opposite the bed. Suddenly, though, her face became sober.
"You are happy to be home, aren't you?"
"Happy? I've dreamed about this for years! You have no idea..."
"Oh, I do. In some ways, I think it was worse for me, knowing I had brothers I would probably never see. At least you never knew about me."
Jarod looked at her thoughtfully. "I hadn't really thought about it from that angle, but you might have a point."
"And you like it here?"
Jarod sighed and glanced once more around the room before looking back at her again. "The one home that I ever knew before this was with Jennifer, and I wasn't there all that often." He took a deep breath and felt the short pains that acted as a reminder of his injuries. "When Kyle was born, it became more homelike than it had been, but it was still the only real home that I'd known. I...I want to go back there at some point - there are things I need to do there anyway - but not yet. I couldn't face it yet."
"I understand. Dad went to Dry River soon after Kyle died. He'd been in contact with us for some time and he asked if I wanted to come along, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I've visited his grave sometimes, though. It's weird, going there. He's a person that I never met and don't know, but I've got a closer connection with him than with many people I'm friends with. I know it's all my imagination, but I try to imagine what kind of a person he would have been."
Jarod tried to think of a response but realized quickly that Emily didn't really need one. She was simply using him as a receptacle for her thoughts and he suddenly realized that he preferred it, especially as it meant there was no need to break the promise that he had made to his brother many years earlier, when he first thought that Kyle had died in the van explosion.
Miss Parker was lying on her mother's bed, staring at the ceiling, when her phone rang. It was an automatic response that made her answer it.
"Hello."
"Parker?"
"Jarod?" She pulled herself upright on the bed, feeling the emotion begin to ebb its way back into her at the sound of his voice. "Are you okay?"
"You sound as though you were worried about me." His teasing voice acted as a reminder of the many earlier calls. Suddenly, though, the teasing vanished. "Are you okay? I was worried that you... your father..." He found himself unable to voice his fears.
"His latest pet sweeper dumped me in a corner and left me there. I suppose, at some point..."
"Don't!" Jarod's voice was sharp. "Don't go there. There's no need, not yet. How's Robert?"
"Good." Miss Parker's voice was gradually becoming more enthusiastic. "He's angry because Ben wouldn't let him come and see me, but I know he'll get over that. And Kyle?"
"He's doing a good job of... keeping me going." Jarod's voice broke and, although his lips moved, no sound came from them.
"Jarod, I'm sorry. Sydney told me about... everything."
"The new baby died, too. Did he mention that?" Jarod's voice became as flat and unemotional as Miss Parker's had been when the call began.
"No, he didn't. I'm sorry."
"It's funny, that baby was so important. But suddenly..."
"I think I understand."
"You probably do."
There was a short pause, but it was not totally uncomfortable.
"Do you have plans?"
"Don't I always?" The teasing was back and Miss Parker couldn't help smiling at the sound. "I... We're all going to build a life together. Once it's completely established... Well, let's just say that I wouldn't bother trying to apply for your job again. If I were you, I'd take out an early retirement. It'll be more beneficial in the long run." He was about to hang up when Parker stopped him with words that left him dumb.
"Jarod, be careful."
Having recovered from the phone call, Jarod picked up the small, red book that he had been carrying since he had learned of Jennifer's death. He leafed through the pages, with their various headings and relevant quotes that Jennifer had found during the hours of reading she had done at the hospital. He let several hot tears fall on the pages that contained the two quotes she'd last read to him under the heading of 'Great Men'. Now he turned to the last few pages, titled 'Death'.
They that love beyond the world cannot be separated by it. Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still.
William Penn, Some Fruits of Solitude
No one's death comes to pass without making some impression, and those close to the deceased inherit part of the liberated soul and become richer in their humanness.
Hermann Broch
If, as I can't help suspecting, the dead also feel the pains of separation (and this may be one of their purgatorial sufferings), then for both lovers, and for all pairs of lovers without exception, bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love.
C.S. Lewis
Jarod looked out of the window to where the winds were tossing the brown, dried leaves and then into the fire that burned brightly in the living room grate. Then he looked across to where his mother sat, the knitting needles flashing in her hands and where, next to her, his father sat, reading the paper. A bang of the front door was almost immediately followed by the sight of his sister in the doorway. During the exchanges of wishes for a pleasant night, Jarod was able to feel the warmth that seemed to surround his heart.
His mind traveled back to a night that he and Jennifer had shared when they'd discussed family.
"Just knowing that, somewhere, people are thinking about you and hoping you're safe and happy is a very valuable thing."
"Do you still feel that?"
Jennifer had shifted position slightly, from looking into the heart of the fire, and focused on his face, nodding. "Even after my parents died, I could still feel how much they wanted me to be happy and to get on with my life. The people who really love you, no matter what they might say or do, will always want you, first and foremost, to be happy. If they push you in a certain direction, it's because they hope you'll succeed and do well, so that you don't disappoint yourself by failing."
"I've seen so many examples where people don't seem to care what other people think of them." Jarod had sighed and stared out into the clear, starry night.
"And yet, inside, the confirmation that they are doing the right thing, from people whose opinions they value, is the one thing that they're always trying for, even subconsciously."
"Do you think I do that?"
Jennifer had looked at him and he had found himself unable to avoid a gaze that was as frank as it was critical. "Yes, I do. It's all you've ever wanted."
"And that's why...?"
"...That's why both Sydney and Miss Parker mean so much to you, and why you would never willingly break the connections you have with them. I think," Jennifer had continued, expansively, "that we all want a little validation in our lives. We're all conceited creatures at heart, and we want other people to see how well we do things."
Jarod, brought back to the present by a collapse of logs in the fire, looked around the room and sighed deeply.
"Happy?"
"That too."
"What else?" Margaret put the knitting down and looked across at her eldest son.
"I think I'm finally realizing that the search I've been on ever since I got out of the Centre is finally beginning to draw to a close. I didn't think that it would present a whole lot more challenges, but I'm glad I didn't have them earlier, because I don't think that I would have been able to deal with them before. But now I think I'm ready. To bring up a son. To get used to having a family. Everything."
His father looked up. "It'll take some getting used to."
"But I'm better prepared than I was."
Margaret smiled. "Who helped you to prepare for it all?"
"A lot of people, almost from the first day I got out. But Jennifer was a big part of it. She directed me towards it, almost from the first day we met. You were right, Mom." He looked at her and smiled. "I won't need to miss her. She'll always be here, with me, helping me. If she'd survived, maybe I would have had to make a family apart, instead of here with you. I don't really know. But now she's more mine than she ever was before. I know that for sure. And her son is going to grow up knowing it, too."
