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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Usual disclaimer, don’t own them, just having fun.
In this part I’ve ‘borrowed’ one or two phrases owned by a man named Jim Wright.
I’d love to say they are ‘courtesy of’ but I can’t. He somehow got lost in the www. And all traces are lost. Otherwise I would have asked him!
And I am quoting a passage written almost two hundred years ago by American writer John Bradbury.
Last but not least, true to my devotion to a certain singer/songwriter from the Garden State, I chose to give the chapters fitting sub-titles now. All of them - even the previous - are named after one of his songs.
Oh, and I gotta say, that I have the best and fastest beta-angel out there - THANKS!
Souls of the Departed - Part 6
"Blood Brothers"
They were now living in a house in a small town in New York State: only thirty minutes north of NYC, right on the Hudson River. It was simply gorgeous. The town had more of a village character. The houses were all surrounded by trees, each house with a lawn -- some bigger some smaller, but still, the children living there all had their playgrounds just by walking out the door.
Jarod had arrived two days ago and concluded that this time of the year must be the most beautiful. The leaves of all sorts of trees -- maple, oak or ash -- took on all shades in the colour spectrum.
Indian Summer it was called; a natural ‘phenomenon’, that had been described as the time when "The air is perfectly quiescent and all is stillness, as if Nature, after her exertions during the Summer, were now at rest."
He had read that particular description somewhere a little while ago, and it fit perfectly. The weather was great. There was such a clear blue sky. The conditions were warm and hazy, comfortable enough to stay out with only a sweater on.
The Pretender sat on the front porch of their house. Joshua and the Major had just repainted it. His father had told him that it had been in pretty bad shape when they were moving in a few months earlier. But, the experience had helped them put a hand on the various deficiencies, and had given them something to work on together.
The first year after Joshua was rescued and living with the Major was hard on both of them. The boy had been through a lot and, no matter what had happened to him at the Centre, was now right in the middle of puberty. Clone or not, adolescent behavior IS demanding.
Jarod smiled inwardly, remembering some stories his father had told him. The boy seemed restless and had all the time on his hands to think up some really insane stuff with that superior brain of his. And he also wanted to go to school, meet other kids of his age. The Major wouldn’t allow it though. Not yet. Not until they could really be safe and settle down for good. Charles still wanted to look for his wife and daughter, and staying here was meant only as a brief interlude in order to get the boy more settled mentally.
They lived there under false identities and it seemed pretty safe. But a second car was always ready to go in the garage. They used a different one to get around in everyday life. The windows and doors were equipped with a high-tech security system and the Major checked the Centre mainframe everyday for signs of danger.
Jarod looked up at the sky, letting sunrays warm his face. It really was a clear day, and he was thinking that if he had been on the phone with someone right now -- someone a thousand miles away -- and he had to give the perfect description of the colour of the sky, he needed only two words: her eyes. With a heavy sigh from the pit of his stomach, he rose and leaned on the porch railing. There we go again. His brilliant mind was betraying him. He was trying to get her out of his mind for just a day or two, but his brain apparently had another idea.
Just then Joshua drove up the short driveway on his bike. He had been to a baseball game with kids he’d met on the nearby field. The other boys had quickly realized what a good player the new kid in town was and invited him to play.
"Hey Jarod, what’s up"
"Joshua, how was the game?"
"We won of course. I hit two home-runs. Cool, eh?"
"Yeah, cool."
The boy hopped off his bike, took all three steps in one leap, and made a beeline for the kitchen, only to return to the porch after a few seconds with a bottle of ice tea in one hand and a box of ice cream and a spoon in the other.
Joshua sat down and held the ice cream towards Jarod who still stood on the railing but had turned around to face his brother.
"Here. By the look on your face, I thought you could use something to cheer you up!"
he said between two large gulps of the ice tea.
"You know, the first time I saw ‘ice tea’ in the supermarket I wondered if they had put vanilla, chocolate or pistachio ice in it. I was disappointed at first that they didn’t, but it still is a very good thirst-quencher! Aren’t you going to have some?" he asked Jarod, pointing towards the ice-cream in front of him.
Finally Jarod pushed himself away from the railing and took a seat beside Joshua. Then he accepted the spoon and ate some.
"So what’s going on? Why the wrinkled face, Jarod? Something at the Centre? Do you have to leave soon?"
"There is always something at the Centre," he said out of sheer habit. He recognized a slightly shocked look on his brother’s face so he quickly added, "But right now there is nothing specific to be worried about. They are actually on a cold lead in California right now so even the hunting team is no problem. And I am not thinking about leaving very soon. Somehow going on a pretend at the moment doesn’t seem to be the best idea. I just...I don’t know. I need some time to think. I was hoping to come up with a new strategy, a different approach to look for mom and Emily. But I feel so distracted…I don’t know."
He whispered the last three words and was clearly in distress. Joshua knew how hard that must be for Jarod. All his life he was supposed to find the solution to a problem. Control about things was essential for Jarod. After his escape this control had become even more important.
And here he had come upon something that was out of his control, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Joshua wasn’t even sure if Jarod himself was aware of what it was that he couldn’t grasp. Josh himself had a faint idea what all this was about.
The Major had told him a few things about Jarod’s past. And Jarod, after his arrival, had told them what just happened at the Centre. Joshua had also overheard a late night conversation between his father and his brother the other night.
This was about Miss Parker. The woman he had only met once. She was always a part of Jarod's life, maybe not always the good part, but she was there. Not knowing where Miss Parker had gone was probably harder for Jarod to accept than not knowing where his Mother was.
From what Joshua understood, and he WAS a pretender too, Jarod had not EXPECTED Miss Parker’s move, and that was what he couldn’t handle!
"It was the best thing for her to do."
"I know Joshua, I know."
"Whether you saw it coming or not, doesn’t matter here either. I am sure, though a pretender, you have met other people who did surprise you before, haven’t you? I know I have. And most of the time I like surprises. It gives me a feel of NOT having everything planned or simmed. And from where I’m standing, that’s a good thing."
Jarod looked up into the face of his brother and was stunned by the boy’s insight, and smiled.
"You are a wise man young man. I should listen to you more often. I can learn from you!"
Joshua grinned at this and went on, "She told me about you."
"Who? What?"
"Miss Parker. On that day you rescued me, she came down to see me."
"You never said anything about that before!"
"Well it was only a short visit, until they came and took me. And later you weren’t really in the best mood. They had our father, and you seemed pretty mad at her, so why tell you that I thought her to actually be nice?"
This made Jarod smile even more. Leave it to her to make an impression on ALL the men in his family.
Kyle had been reluctant to shoot Lyle, because Lyle had used Miss Parker as a human shield. Even when she had furiously yelled at Kyle to shoot him, Kyle couldn’t do it, fearing he’d hit her instead.
His father had told him about Miss Parker’s visit in his cell, and how he quickly had realized that this lady, though dangerous, was not really what she appeared to be.
And now his younger brother too.
Returning his attention to Joshua, the pretender shot him a questioning, almost impatient look.
"What did she tell you about me?"
"That she had known someone like me before. Then I didn’t know that she was talking about you specifically. That I only realized later. She told me that she had seen that sad look in my eyes before, and that she had looked away. She told me that she would not look away anymore, that she would help me. She would not allow anyone to hurt me anymore."
Joshua concluded with the description of how they were interrupted and how Raines had taken him away from Miss Parker -- literally out of her arms.
What he left out was the tiny detail that being in her arms had felt better than anything else on earth.
Even now, after two years of freedom, he had not experienced anything similar. Not even eating ice cream on a sunny afternoon felt like that. For some reason he wanted this to be his secret. Maybe someday in the future he could meet her again, and then and only then, he would tell her. Only her. She deserved to know that for a brief moment his miserable life at that cold, harsh place seemed warm and caring, because she was.
Jarod was almost speechless. There you are. Surprise again. And he liked it! She had wanted to rescue the boy, risking her life in doing so! Just like her mother! A wave of sadness suddenly rushed over him. She should know, he thought. She deserved to hear it! The one thing that she’d craved all her life to hear.
In this instant Jarod wanted nothing more than to call her and to tell her. Tell her what she’d so needed to hear: that she not only looked like her mother, but she WAS just like her mother.
He wanted so much to see her at this moment; to stand in front of her, look into her eyes and tell her, "Your mother would have been proud!"
"I am sure she would."
Jarod had unintentionally said the last sentence aloud, whispered though, but loud enough for Joshua to hear.
The boy hadn’t expected the effect the story had had on Jarod. He had actually thought it could alter his mood for the better, since it was a story about something actually good at this place.
But Jarod seemed now sadder than ever, almost broken. Joshua even detected one silent tear rolling down Jarod’s left cheek, and suddenly it struck him like lightning.
"You like her!" he simply said.
The older brother stood up again and returned to the railing
"Despite all, she was my friend."
"No. I mean you love her. And don’t tell me about the ‘loving a friend’ thing. I’m sixteen almost seventeen. I know about things. I watch people, and I’m a good observer. I’ve seen this look before. And I tell you, this look only appears on a man’s face when a special woman is involved. Not when a friend is involved."
At this moment the Major turned the corner. He had a tool belt around his waist and was sweating heavily. "Hi boys. Enjoying the break?" he asked with slight sarcasm.
Jarod had been taken aback by his brother’s last comment, but with the Majors appearance he immediately felt guilty. His father apparently had been working on the house, and here he was, pondering about something that could never be.
Joshua however did not feel bad about this. In his opinion, he had been helping a lot. He was constantly ordered to do this or that and immediately so. The boy just couldn’t see the urgency. He still could paint the stupid fence tomorrow. It sure wouldn’t run away!
The baseball game on the other hand was on today, not tomorrow, so the order of things to do was self-explanatory.
The Major came up the stairs. "I’m going to take a shower." At the door he turned around and said, "And Josh, we’ll need to have a little talk about duties. You snuck out to be with your friends. Now, I know you like that better, but you know the rules. And when I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it."
"Yeah, right. But when it comes to Jarod, there are different rules, right?"
"This is not about Jarod."
"Dad, the other kids are allowed a lot more than I am. They can play all the time. Besides, there was a game on today and the others were counting on me."
Granted, his brother’s complaint wasn’t very unique, but, Jarod knew from his time on his pretends -- where he had met many parents and adolescents alike -- that his father was reverting now to what was THE eternal answer of every parent on the face of this earth.
"I don’t care what other people do. You’re living under my roof, which means my rules. And don’t you give me that look, Joshua. You are allowed a lot more than I ever was. So stop whining!"
Jarod concluded that his friend Argyle had been right. At one point, the pretender had asked Argyle about this specific parent-child discussion. And Argyle had responded in all seriousness. "I’ve been there and I’d call it ‘Parent speak’, Jarod. And it simply means ‘You can’t because I say you can’t.’ Parents use this every day, and it will never change."
The Major disappeared through the door, and Joshua was cursing, in a suppressed voice, his fate of being treated worse than any other kid he knew. He went to look for the "damn paint" and the "stupid brush".
Still grinning at this domestic scene, Jarod went after Joshua.
"Tell you what little brother: it’s late already. You help me with dinner and I’ll help you with the fence tomorrow. What do you say?"
At first Joshua wanted to turn him down. But after a quick estimation of the time he would save the next day, he accepted.
**********************
Major Charles went to the bathroom to clean up. He was worried. Not for the brief argument with Joshua, but for what he had overheard earlier. He couldn’t help but listen in to the last few words of his sons’ conversation.
If Joshua was right, and Jarod was indeed in love with Miss Parker, it would only mean more pain for his oldest.
The Major had never anticipated this possibility. In all truth, he didn’t know his son too well. How could he? When Jarod had stayed back at the airfield four years ago, he thought it was simply in Jarod’s nature to try to help, no matter who it was. It never had occurred to him that it could have been only because of her.
He himself had very mixed feelings about that woman. She was Catherine’s daughter, but she was a Parker too. Back in the Centre the Major had seen in her eyes that she would not shoot him, even though, from her point of view, she might have had a good reason to do so. After all, she had been told he had killed her mother.
But she HAD hunted Jarod and she had taken shots at him. The Major simply wasn’t sure if she was a woman Jarod should trust.
He would have to talk to him about that.
********************
Broots sat in the computer lab at the Centre. He smiled at his memory of her: always approaching from behind, always a little too close, invading his privacy.
Whenever she had a problem with her computer she ordered him to fix it, in no uncertain terms. Once, she had lost some data and she had called him and told him to get "his ass into her office ASAP." While he was quickly tapping commands into her key-board, she kept on cursing the "damn thing".
The techno freak in him had wanted her to see that not everything was so bad about computers. He had made the mistake of explaining to her: "The problem is usually in front of the screen not inside the machine. It will only do what the user is telling it to do, nothing else."
For her that was simply the "usual poor excuse of a computer geek." She was right though. It was the frequent adage he and all his IT-colleagues used.
After his little 'explanation" she had come up behind him and had leaned in very close. "Broots," she had said in a dangerously low voice, her anger only marginally contained, "did I TELL that thing to lose data? Did I tell this little piece of shit to NOT save before breaking down?"
He had found no response to that and it had been better that way. She had been in the mood to simply plunge her fist into his chest cavity and show him his still beating heart before he died.
He missed her.
*********************
Sydney conducted some experiments with twins in SL6, but he was too distracted to actually pay any attention to the results.
They had not come up with anything on Jarod in California. At least nothing Lyle had managed to discern as important. He couldn’t read Jarod’s messages as well as his predecessor could.
But Lyle’s involvement in Miss Parker’s disappearance was still lingering in Sydney’s mind. No obvious sign so far, but still…
He had framed the picture she’d given him and placed it on his mantelpiece at home.
Following her wish, Sydney went down to see her little brother everyday. He seemed all right; they took good care of him. Well, as good as you could expect at this place.
He’d do anything for her. To watch out for the little child was not even worth mentioning. He remembered all the other times she’d asked one or the other thing of him. Most of the time it had been something dangerous, mainly dangerous to her. After voicing his reluctance and the possible negative repercussions for her, she would always -- in Broots’ words -- ‘give the Nike slogan’: "Just do it, alright!"
And there wasn’t a cell in his body that could withstand her ‘just do it’ and the accompanying look on her face. Second guessing her wasn’t worth the time. You might as well try arguing with an earthquake.
The doctor dismissed his two experiment participants. They were actually volunteers, not residents of the Centre, and he was more than happy about that. Sydney had been involved in far too many atrocious endeavors already.
It was time to call it a day.
In this part I’ve ‘borrowed’ one or two phrases owned by a man named Jim Wright.
I’d love to say they are ‘courtesy of’ but I can’t. He somehow got lost in the www. And all traces are lost. Otherwise I would have asked him!
And I am quoting a passage written almost two hundred years ago by American writer John Bradbury.
Last but not least, true to my devotion to a certain singer/songwriter from the Garden State, I chose to give the chapters fitting sub-titles now. All of them - even the previous - are named after one of his songs.
Oh, and I gotta say, that I have the best and fastest beta-angel out there - THANKS!
Souls of the Departed - Part 6
"Blood Brothers"
They were now living in a house in a small town in New York State: only thirty minutes north of NYC, right on the Hudson River. It was simply gorgeous. The town had more of a village character. The houses were all surrounded by trees, each house with a lawn -- some bigger some smaller, but still, the children living there all had their playgrounds just by walking out the door.
Jarod had arrived two days ago and concluded that this time of the year must be the most beautiful. The leaves of all sorts of trees -- maple, oak or ash -- took on all shades in the colour spectrum.
Indian Summer it was called; a natural ‘phenomenon’, that had been described as the time when "The air is perfectly quiescent and all is stillness, as if Nature, after her exertions during the Summer, were now at rest."
He had read that particular description somewhere a little while ago, and it fit perfectly. The weather was great. There was such a clear blue sky. The conditions were warm and hazy, comfortable enough to stay out with only a sweater on.
The Pretender sat on the front porch of their house. Joshua and the Major had just repainted it. His father had told him that it had been in pretty bad shape when they were moving in a few months earlier. But, the experience had helped them put a hand on the various deficiencies, and had given them something to work on together.
The first year after Joshua was rescued and living with the Major was hard on both of them. The boy had been through a lot and, no matter what had happened to him at the Centre, was now right in the middle of puberty. Clone or not, adolescent behavior IS demanding.
Jarod smiled inwardly, remembering some stories his father had told him. The boy seemed restless and had all the time on his hands to think up some really insane stuff with that superior brain of his. And he also wanted to go to school, meet other kids of his age. The Major wouldn’t allow it though. Not yet. Not until they could really be safe and settle down for good. Charles still wanted to look for his wife and daughter, and staying here was meant only as a brief interlude in order to get the boy more settled mentally.
They lived there under false identities and it seemed pretty safe. But a second car was always ready to go in the garage. They used a different one to get around in everyday life. The windows and doors were equipped with a high-tech security system and the Major checked the Centre mainframe everyday for signs of danger.
Jarod looked up at the sky, letting sunrays warm his face. It really was a clear day, and he was thinking that if he had been on the phone with someone right now -- someone a thousand miles away -- and he had to give the perfect description of the colour of the sky, he needed only two words: her eyes. With a heavy sigh from the pit of his stomach, he rose and leaned on the porch railing. There we go again. His brilliant mind was betraying him. He was trying to get her out of his mind for just a day or two, but his brain apparently had another idea.
Just then Joshua drove up the short driveway on his bike. He had been to a baseball game with kids he’d met on the nearby field. The other boys had quickly realized what a good player the new kid in town was and invited him to play.
"Hey Jarod, what’s up"
"Joshua, how was the game?"
"We won of course. I hit two home-runs. Cool, eh?"
"Yeah, cool."
The boy hopped off his bike, took all three steps in one leap, and made a beeline for the kitchen, only to return to the porch after a few seconds with a bottle of ice tea in one hand and a box of ice cream and a spoon in the other.
Joshua sat down and held the ice cream towards Jarod who still stood on the railing but had turned around to face his brother.
"Here. By the look on your face, I thought you could use something to cheer you up!"
he said between two large gulps of the ice tea.
"You know, the first time I saw ‘ice tea’ in the supermarket I wondered if they had put vanilla, chocolate or pistachio ice in it. I was disappointed at first that they didn’t, but it still is a very good thirst-quencher! Aren’t you going to have some?" he asked Jarod, pointing towards the ice-cream in front of him.
Finally Jarod pushed himself away from the railing and took a seat beside Joshua. Then he accepted the spoon and ate some.
"So what’s going on? Why the wrinkled face, Jarod? Something at the Centre? Do you have to leave soon?"
"There is always something at the Centre," he said out of sheer habit. He recognized a slightly shocked look on his brother’s face so he quickly added, "But right now there is nothing specific to be worried about. They are actually on a cold lead in California right now so even the hunting team is no problem. And I am not thinking about leaving very soon. Somehow going on a pretend at the moment doesn’t seem to be the best idea. I just...I don’t know. I need some time to think. I was hoping to come up with a new strategy, a different approach to look for mom and Emily. But I feel so distracted…I don’t know."
He whispered the last three words and was clearly in distress. Joshua knew how hard that must be for Jarod. All his life he was supposed to find the solution to a problem. Control about things was essential for Jarod. After his escape this control had become even more important.
And here he had come upon something that was out of his control, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Joshua wasn’t even sure if Jarod himself was aware of what it was that he couldn’t grasp. Josh himself had a faint idea what all this was about.
The Major had told him a few things about Jarod’s past. And Jarod, after his arrival, had told them what just happened at the Centre. Joshua had also overheard a late night conversation between his father and his brother the other night.
This was about Miss Parker. The woman he had only met once. She was always a part of Jarod's life, maybe not always the good part, but she was there. Not knowing where Miss Parker had gone was probably harder for Jarod to accept than not knowing where his Mother was.
From what Joshua understood, and he WAS a pretender too, Jarod had not EXPECTED Miss Parker’s move, and that was what he couldn’t handle!
"It was the best thing for her to do."
"I know Joshua, I know."
"Whether you saw it coming or not, doesn’t matter here either. I am sure, though a pretender, you have met other people who did surprise you before, haven’t you? I know I have. And most of the time I like surprises. It gives me a feel of NOT having everything planned or simmed. And from where I’m standing, that’s a good thing."
Jarod looked up into the face of his brother and was stunned by the boy’s insight, and smiled.
"You are a wise man young man. I should listen to you more often. I can learn from you!"
Joshua grinned at this and went on, "She told me about you."
"Who? What?"
"Miss Parker. On that day you rescued me, she came down to see me."
"You never said anything about that before!"
"Well it was only a short visit, until they came and took me. And later you weren’t really in the best mood. They had our father, and you seemed pretty mad at her, so why tell you that I thought her to actually be nice?"
This made Jarod smile even more. Leave it to her to make an impression on ALL the men in his family.
Kyle had been reluctant to shoot Lyle, because Lyle had used Miss Parker as a human shield. Even when she had furiously yelled at Kyle to shoot him, Kyle couldn’t do it, fearing he’d hit her instead.
His father had told him about Miss Parker’s visit in his cell, and how he quickly had realized that this lady, though dangerous, was not really what she appeared to be.
And now his younger brother too.
Returning his attention to Joshua, the pretender shot him a questioning, almost impatient look.
"What did she tell you about me?"
"That she had known someone like me before. Then I didn’t know that she was talking about you specifically. That I only realized later. She told me that she had seen that sad look in my eyes before, and that she had looked away. She told me that she would not look away anymore, that she would help me. She would not allow anyone to hurt me anymore."
Joshua concluded with the description of how they were interrupted and how Raines had taken him away from Miss Parker -- literally out of her arms.
What he left out was the tiny detail that being in her arms had felt better than anything else on earth.
Even now, after two years of freedom, he had not experienced anything similar. Not even eating ice cream on a sunny afternoon felt like that. For some reason he wanted this to be his secret. Maybe someday in the future he could meet her again, and then and only then, he would tell her. Only her. She deserved to know that for a brief moment his miserable life at that cold, harsh place seemed warm and caring, because she was.
Jarod was almost speechless. There you are. Surprise again. And he liked it! She had wanted to rescue the boy, risking her life in doing so! Just like her mother! A wave of sadness suddenly rushed over him. She should know, he thought. She deserved to hear it! The one thing that she’d craved all her life to hear.
In this instant Jarod wanted nothing more than to call her and to tell her. Tell her what she’d so needed to hear: that she not only looked like her mother, but she WAS just like her mother.
He wanted so much to see her at this moment; to stand in front of her, look into her eyes and tell her, "Your mother would have been proud!"
"I am sure she would."
Jarod had unintentionally said the last sentence aloud, whispered though, but loud enough for Joshua to hear.
The boy hadn’t expected the effect the story had had on Jarod. He had actually thought it could alter his mood for the better, since it was a story about something actually good at this place.
But Jarod seemed now sadder than ever, almost broken. Joshua even detected one silent tear rolling down Jarod’s left cheek, and suddenly it struck him like lightning.
"You like her!" he simply said.
The older brother stood up again and returned to the railing
"Despite all, she was my friend."
"No. I mean you love her. And don’t tell me about the ‘loving a friend’ thing. I’m sixteen almost seventeen. I know about things. I watch people, and I’m a good observer. I’ve seen this look before. And I tell you, this look only appears on a man’s face when a special woman is involved. Not when a friend is involved."
At this moment the Major turned the corner. He had a tool belt around his waist and was sweating heavily. "Hi boys. Enjoying the break?" he asked with slight sarcasm.
Jarod had been taken aback by his brother’s last comment, but with the Majors appearance he immediately felt guilty. His father apparently had been working on the house, and here he was, pondering about something that could never be.
Joshua however did not feel bad about this. In his opinion, he had been helping a lot. He was constantly ordered to do this or that and immediately so. The boy just couldn’t see the urgency. He still could paint the stupid fence tomorrow. It sure wouldn’t run away!
The baseball game on the other hand was on today, not tomorrow, so the order of things to do was self-explanatory.
The Major came up the stairs. "I’m going to take a shower." At the door he turned around and said, "And Josh, we’ll need to have a little talk about duties. You snuck out to be with your friends. Now, I know you like that better, but you know the rules. And when I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it."
"Yeah, right. But when it comes to Jarod, there are different rules, right?"
"This is not about Jarod."
"Dad, the other kids are allowed a lot more than I am. They can play all the time. Besides, there was a game on today and the others were counting on me."
Granted, his brother’s complaint wasn’t very unique, but, Jarod knew from his time on his pretends -- where he had met many parents and adolescents alike -- that his father was reverting now to what was THE eternal answer of every parent on the face of this earth.
"I don’t care what other people do. You’re living under my roof, which means my rules. And don’t you give me that look, Joshua. You are allowed a lot more than I ever was. So stop whining!"
Jarod concluded that his friend Argyle had been right. At one point, the pretender had asked Argyle about this specific parent-child discussion. And Argyle had responded in all seriousness. "I’ve been there and I’d call it ‘Parent speak’, Jarod. And it simply means ‘You can’t because I say you can’t.’ Parents use this every day, and it will never change."
The Major disappeared through the door, and Joshua was cursing, in a suppressed voice, his fate of being treated worse than any other kid he knew. He went to look for the "damn paint" and the "stupid brush".
Still grinning at this domestic scene, Jarod went after Joshua.
"Tell you what little brother: it’s late already. You help me with dinner and I’ll help you with the fence tomorrow. What do you say?"
At first Joshua wanted to turn him down. But after a quick estimation of the time he would save the next day, he accepted.
**********************
Major Charles went to the bathroom to clean up. He was worried. Not for the brief argument with Joshua, but for what he had overheard earlier. He couldn’t help but listen in to the last few words of his sons’ conversation.
If Joshua was right, and Jarod was indeed in love with Miss Parker, it would only mean more pain for his oldest.
The Major had never anticipated this possibility. In all truth, he didn’t know his son too well. How could he? When Jarod had stayed back at the airfield four years ago, he thought it was simply in Jarod’s nature to try to help, no matter who it was. It never had occurred to him that it could have been only because of her.
He himself had very mixed feelings about that woman. She was Catherine’s daughter, but she was a Parker too. Back in the Centre the Major had seen in her eyes that she would not shoot him, even though, from her point of view, she might have had a good reason to do so. After all, she had been told he had killed her mother.
But she HAD hunted Jarod and she had taken shots at him. The Major simply wasn’t sure if she was a woman Jarod should trust.
He would have to talk to him about that.
********************
Broots sat in the computer lab at the Centre. He smiled at his memory of her: always approaching from behind, always a little too close, invading his privacy.
Whenever she had a problem with her computer she ordered him to fix it, in no uncertain terms. Once, she had lost some data and she had called him and told him to get "his ass into her office ASAP." While he was quickly tapping commands into her key-board, she kept on cursing the "damn thing".
The techno freak in him had wanted her to see that not everything was so bad about computers. He had made the mistake of explaining to her: "The problem is usually in front of the screen not inside the machine. It will only do what the user is telling it to do, nothing else."
For her that was simply the "usual poor excuse of a computer geek." She was right though. It was the frequent adage he and all his IT-colleagues used.
After his little 'explanation" she had come up behind him and had leaned in very close. "Broots," she had said in a dangerously low voice, her anger only marginally contained, "did I TELL that thing to lose data? Did I tell this little piece of shit to NOT save before breaking down?"
He had found no response to that and it had been better that way. She had been in the mood to simply plunge her fist into his chest cavity and show him his still beating heart before he died.
He missed her.
*********************
Sydney conducted some experiments with twins in SL6, but he was too distracted to actually pay any attention to the results.
They had not come up with anything on Jarod in California. At least nothing Lyle had managed to discern as important. He couldn’t read Jarod’s messages as well as his predecessor could.
But Lyle’s involvement in Miss Parker’s disappearance was still lingering in Sydney’s mind. No obvious sign so far, but still…
He had framed the picture she’d given him and placed it on his mantelpiece at home.
Following her wish, Sydney went down to see her little brother everyday. He seemed all right; they took good care of him. Well, as good as you could expect at this place.
He’d do anything for her. To watch out for the little child was not even worth mentioning. He remembered all the other times she’d asked one or the other thing of him. Most of the time it had been something dangerous, mainly dangerous to her. After voicing his reluctance and the possible negative repercussions for her, she would always -- in Broots’ words -- ‘give the Nike slogan’: "Just do it, alright!"
And there wasn’t a cell in his body that could withstand her ‘just do it’ and the accompanying look on her face. Second guessing her wasn’t worth the time. You might as well try arguing with an earthquake.
The doctor dismissed his two experiment participants. They were actually volunteers, not residents of the Centre, and he was more than happy about that. Sydney had been involved in far too many atrocious endeavors already.
It was time to call it a day.
