Sidekick (12 page)

He pulled back suddenly, and I stumbled—lips still puckered—face first into his chest.

“I am so sorry,” he said. “I crossed the line. I just thought there might be a chance I would never see you again, and I had to…try? Here’s my phone if you want to call 911.” He added with a smile.

911! 911! I think I would have to call 911. My heart had stopped.

“Do you think maybe I could see you again?”

“You’ll live to regret it,” I said truthfully.

“I’m counting on it.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Fifty bucks? Fifty bucks!”

The man at the counter looked up from the lingerie league football game playing on the mini T.V. underneath the counter.

“Are you not hearing the indignation in my voice?” I yelled at an even higher pitch.

“I run a secondhand shop lady, indignation is about as new to me as the smell coming from my pits.”

I had to shake that image off before I could reply. It didn’t help that he was wearing a stained undershirt.

“But I paid five thousand for that jacket.” At least I think I did. That shopping trip had been a bit of a frenzy.

I had thought about selling the jeans Queenie had referenced earlier, but I only had one other pair of pants. This jacket was the only piece of clothing I owned that wasn’t essential.

“It’s vintage!” I tried.

“Does it look like I went to fashionista school?” he asked, shaking his head. “Fifty bucks. That’s my final offer.”

I ran my hand over the gorgeous cashmere coat on the counter. I should take it to another store. I still could, but there was no guarantee I would do any better. To make matters worse, the bakery next store was making cinnamon buns. I was starving.

Don’t do it Bremy
, I thought.
Grab your precious and leave!

“Fine. Give me the fifty.” Stupid cinnamon buns.

The man punched a lever on his
older than dinosaur’s
cash register and took out a wad of cash. He then licked his thumb to count off the money.

“Do you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Lick the money?”

He looked at his thumb, and then gave it another slow lick before putting the bills on the counter. I didn’t want touch them right away, not until they had dried, so I looked around the shop. That’s when I spied it. Over in the corner, on a headless mannequin, there was a black shiny bodysuit with a zipper up the middle. Granted it wasn’t perfect—actually, it was pretty tacky—but if I squinted my eyes just right, it actually looked a little bit like something Dark Ryder might wear.

“Wait!” I shouted. “I need you to throw in that bodysuit!”

“You’re really new to this aren’t you?”

“I haven’t picked up the money. The deal isn’t closed,” I sputtered desperately.

“It’s closed,” he said making a backwards gesture with his thumb. My coat was already on a hanger, dangling on a rack. Wow, he moved fast.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “I’ll give you the suit for that bracelet you’re wearing.”

“No way.”

“The suit and I’ll throw in another fifty just because I’m impressed that you managed to tie your own shoes this morning. It’s like charity.”

“Yeah, just like it,” I muttered, staring down at my bracelet. It was silver and the clasp was made of three diamonds, small but of exquisite quality. The diamonds represented my sister, my mother, and me.

“Look, I’ll give you a chip for it.” He reached underneath the counter and pulled out a small plastic disk. “You return the money in a month, I’ll give it back, and you can keep the suit.”

My stomach churned.

It could work. I just wouldn’t spend the fifty.

I could see the advantage for him. He probably had people come in all the time who traded things for money and never came back, but that was not going to be me.

I really needed that suit.

“How do I know you’ll take care of it?”

“In this business, reputation is everything.”

“You should know I am a close personal friend of Dark Ryder’s.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, while picking at something stuck in his teeth. “Sundays I go bowling with Santy Claus.”

I unclasped the bracelet. Ripples rang out through the universe. Before I could even get it across the counter, my phone buzzed. I didn’t have the strength to look at the message.

I grabbed my money and the suit and headed for the door.

I stopped to look back at Jabba the Clerk. “I’ll see you within the month.”

“Sure thing, doll,” he said without looking up. “Be sure to wear the suit when you do.”

***

I ran a few more errands on the way to the square after my sticky bun feast. I ate faster than my stomach could give me feedback, so I wound up queasy. I’m sure the pain had nothing to do with the fact that I was about to see my father.

The second Pierce had told me about the press conference, I knew I would go. I refused to think too deeply on the reasons why. Maybe my father installed a self-destruct chip in my brain. Wouldn’t put it past him.

It was a miserable day.

Drizzle clouded my vision and flattened my hair to my face. The weather was probably the last thing on the planet my father couldn’t control, so I did a mental high five with the Rain Gods.

For a few minutes, I thought I was lost, but I knew I was on the right track when I saw the St. James company logo on the side of a skyscraper—a giant happy face, seemingly drawn within an orange crayon, on a glaring white background.

I tried to ignore the face staring down on me as I walked over the wet sidewalk, but it wouldn’t let up, so I stopped and gave it the finger.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where to go next. An enormous stage, better suited for a rock concert, was set up in the middle of the square. Happy upbeat music blared from loudspeakers while reporters filled the rows of seats set up in front of the stage. I scanned the crowd for Pierce. I didn’t want to run into him. Instinctually, I knew if he discovered my true identity, we’d be over. And I wasn’t ready for that.

I huddled in behind a group of people, standing well enough back from the chairs to go unnoticed, and waited.

After a few minutes, the music suddenly stopped, and the loud buzz of the crowd died down.

A number of people made their way up to the stage. Leading the pack was a tall man in a suit. I thought he might be the mayor. Behind him followed a bunch of other suits and suit-ettes.

No father.

My heart hammered in my chest.

I should go. What did I really need to see him for? An explanation? How do you explain evil?

I turned on my heel with my shopping bags.

“Welcome everyone,” a voice boomed out over the loud speaker.

I stopped. I
had
walked all this way. I turned to see the mayor at the podium.

“I have called this press conference today to inform the city of an application from St. James Industries. Please see your press kits for a copy of this proposal.”

I looked to the reporters. They were all opening the same booklet. I needed to get my hands on one of those. I shuffled over to the back row and looked over the shoulder of a woman in news-anchory red trench coat. Almost immediately, she looked up at me with a clear
you’re in my personal space
look. I flashed my toothiest smile. I didn’t work. I only caught the words
neurological implant
before she slammed her kit shut. Some people.

“Before we begin, I would like to make it clear the city has in no way committed to go forward with any proposed action as of yet. I have invited Mr. Atticus St. James here today to explain the proposal and to answer any questions you may have. Following his presentation, City Council will schedule a number of Town Hall meetings to obtain feedback from our citizens and hear any concerns. So with no further ado, I would like to introduce Atticus St. James.”

A smattering of awkward applause broke out. Most of the reporters probably thought my father was an evil corporate overlord, like Pierce. Too much money. Too much influence. I used to think they were completely unfair.

I knew better now.

My father suddenly appeared from behind a curtain. He strode across the stage with his trademark casual confidence and disarming smile. Nervous energy ran thickly through my veins. He looked good. He always looked good in a middle-aged Ken doll kind of way. For a second, I felt my eyes sting with tears, but they calmed down after I threatened to claw them out.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen.”

I mimicked his words under my breath, sticking my tongue out at the end. The reporter in the red coat looked back at me.

I raised my eyebrows and mouthed,
What?
She looked away.

My mood was becoming fouler by the second.

I should have gone home to my bed by the toilet.

“As the honourable mayor stated, I have come to you today with a proposal for the city, but I would like to make it clear—what we have developed is so much more than just another business proposal.” He walked away from the podium towards the audience.

“As many of you know, St. James Industries has always been the leader in the field of biotechnology. Over the past few years, we have focused our resources on one of the last frontiers known to humankind, the human brain.”

A rumble went through the crowd.

My father chuckled, managing not to sound condescending, and he put up his hands in a universal gesture of peace. “I know this sounds frightening, that is, the idea of mixing technology with the human brain, so before we go any further, I would like to introduce you to someone who has benefited from this technology—someone who is dearer to me than life itself…my daughter, Jenny.”

My knees almost gave way. I hadn’t prepared for this possibility.

Jenny appeared from behind the same curtain my father had in her state-of-the-art wheelchair. This time I couldn’t stop the tears from coming to my eyes, but a smile also spread across my face. It felt like a lifetime since I had seen her.

Cameras snapped all around me. I cringed. People would look at the pictures of Jenny with her tilted head and hunched left shoulder and only see someone with a disability. They wouldn’t look beyond the slack expression on her face.

They’d miss all her beauty.

“I have brought Jenny here to demonstrate, in part, the technology we have been working on over at St. James industries. As many of you know, recent advances in quantum physics have allowed us to build—without getting too technical—computers that are able to perform feats beyond our wildest expectations.”

He allowed the audience a moment to let the information sink in.

Waves of unease washed over me. What had he done to Jenny?

“As many of you know, my daughter suffers from brain damage resulting from a difficult birth.”

Familiar guilt socked me in the gut.

It was my fault. Jenny would be completely normal if it weren’t for me.

I had been born first. Against doctor’s advice, my mother opted for a natural delivery. Everything was textbook until my shoulders became stuck in the birth canal. It took over thirty-five minutes of pushing to deliver me. I was fine, but during those thirty-five minutes my body had compressed Jenny’s umbilical cord, robbing her of oxygen. Any chance she had of being normal disappeared in that time.

I knew intellectually it wasn’t my fault, but rational thought doesn’t stand a chance against guilt when you’ve hurt someone you love.

“Jenny has never been able to speak. Her only form of communication has been through computer. Right Jenny?”

Right, Dad
.

The echo of Jenny’s computerized voice filled the square.

“That is, Jenny has never been able to speak…until now.” My father removed the microphone from the dais and positioned it by Jenny’s lips.

“Right, Dad.”

The words hit me like lightning. It was my voice. My voice coming from Jenny…

The crowd erupted in applause. I was right there with them. I couldn’t help it. Jenny was speaking! She was actually speaking!

My father waited for the applause to die down. “As you can imagine this has been the most fulfilling work of my life. We have been able to stimulate parts of the brain that have atrophied—pumping blood into areas that have died. This research is still in its infancy, but, as you can see, I am so confident in this technology, I allowed my team to use it on my own flesh and blood.”

He paused to smile at my sister. She smiled back. I wished I could slap him.

“What you have witnessed is only the beginning. We are much further along in other areas of treatment. It is one of those areas that brings me here today.” He turned again to look at my sister. “Thank you Jenny.”

Ah, there was the father I knew. He was done with her. She could go.

But she didn’t…at least not right away.

For a moment, she didn’t move. Her eyes scanned the crowd.

She was looking for me.

It took everything I had not to call out.

Finally, she gave up. I was too far way, too hidden in the crowd, for her to see.

She drove off stage.

Emotions tore me apart. My cynical side focused on the horrible act my father had just committed. He had used Jenny to warm up this crowd, to entice them into trusting him. Sure, he had said the technology used on Jenny was different from the technology he was trying to sell to the city today, but it was a sleight of hand move. Look at the girl in the wheelchair over here so that you don’t see me destroying your city over there. It was disgusting.

But did any of that matter right now?

The part of me that loved my sister—a much larger part of me—didn’t give a damn about my father’s ulterior motives.

He had healed Jenny. Something I could never do.

“Before I begin, allow me to say that we are aware, I’m sorry, I am aware,” he said putting his hand on his chest, “that this technology holds tremendous ethical implications, implications that have been weighed heavily. I ask to you consider what I am offering the city with this in mind.”

My father picked up a remote and pointed it to a large screen behind him. A number of statistics lit up. Crime rates.