Alter-Self - Chapter 4

 His mother and sister switched off near bed time. For a few precious minutes between their shifts, he had a moment to himself and made a call to his business partner. She answered on the first ring.

“Hey Laura, I’m feeling a little more lucid today. Shall we take care of the first transfer? I have my laptop.”

Laura sighed. “No good. The whole deal with Wormheimer broke down a few hours ago. There’s a multi-million-dollar lawsuit on him because of his previous employer. Wormheimer released a statement that he was moving forward, but the price of his shares dropped to half as soon as the market opened this morning.”

Crap. “Will that really impact us at all?”

“It will in terms of delivery. He was going to provide our delivery services. If we have to go through Amazon for this—or FedEx and hold our own inventory—Peter, the costs are going to skyrocket.”

Her use of the false name grated on him, distracting him from the more dire message of her words. “My name is Cameron. Sorry I lied to you before, but I wasn’t quite sure about giving out my real name at first.”

“Cameron?” She seemed uncertain.

“Yeah, sorry about that, but hearing you call me Peter has been bugging me. Anyway, back to the problem at hand. You’re telling me that we need Wormheimer to make this work?” That was irritating.

“Or something as cheap.”

He grunted, thinking hard. “You’ve got the prototypes done. Can we look at alternative producers? Maybe they can deal with the cost of shipping.”

“Of course they can, but you saw the workup from Walmart. Their required markup, or markdown as the case may be, brings us to just over break-even at ten-thousand units.”

“And shipping ourselves?”

“I haven’t run those numbers.”

“Let me take care of that. I’m supposed to be the business-side of this, aren’t I? I’ll do the research and get back to you tomorrow with some thoughts.”

Laura seemed relieved. “So, are you still going to send over the deposit?”

“Yeah.” His stomach twisted. This was a lot of money to tie up in a product they weren’t sure about, with so many uncertainties to the final shelf. “Yeah, give me the information. Are we transferring bank to bank, or do you want me to send over a check?”

“Check is fine. I’ve got a PO.”

That nagged at him again. What did he really know about this deal other than the mockups he’d seen? He was investing half his net worth into this, and if it didn’t pay off? Back to the lab. “Okay.” He jotted down the numbers she gave him and hung up.

Staring at the address, he pulled out his laptop from the bag his mother had brought over and powered it up. “Invest or not invest,” he muttered.

He thought about Ronald Clement. What was he doing with his investment now that Wormheimer had a few financial difficulties to deal with? If he decided to bail, would Wormheimer fold? If he stuck it out, there was a good chance he could lose some of the newfound wealth he’d amassed.

Cameron typed in the address slowly, deliberately hovering over the ‘send’ button for a long minute before closing his eyes and pressing it. Then he stared at the confirmation screen for another five minutes while his stomach roiled. If it failed, at least he still had the apartment building, but if anything serious went wrong, he’d have nothing to pay the deductible until the demos got picked up by a vendor for mass production. Consoling himself with his insurance policy and the backup plans he’d already worked out, Cameron shut his computer and shoved it back onto the nightstand next to his bed.

Misty walked in, ice cream sandwich in hand a moment later. “So, let’s talk about it.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” Cam shifted and grunted again. “Actually, can you get one of the nurses?  The pain is starting to get to me.”

Concern overrode curiosity, and she leaned over to push the call button on his bed.

“Yes?” came the scratchy reply.

“My brother needs medicine?”

“I’ll be right there.”

The static cut out and the door opened to admit a plump nurse who looked to be all about business and none about compassion. She glanced toward a white board positioned next to the privacy curtain. “Last dose was ten hours ago. I’m not surprised you’re feeling the pain. I’ll go get a dose.”

While she disappeared, Cameron turned back to his sister and smiled. “How was your day?”

“Long, thanks to you. Mom insists that one of us be present with you at all times, and with all the ideas you’ve given me, I can’t focus on anything else. Plus, being in this hospital isn’t helping.”

“Why? You’d think the quiet would be perfect.” He tried to shift himself to look at her and regretted the movement.

She shrugged. “It’s too fascinating to watch the goings on. I mean, I’ve never written a full-on hospital scene before. I feel like I need to take notes more than I need to write.”

“Ah, your dilemma is so terrible.” He chuckled knowingly.

She glared at him for a moment before settling next to him on the bed. Misty squeezed his hand. “I’m also worried. As nonchalant as I seem, I was pretty terrified for you when they first brought you in, and you still don’t look that great.”

“I’m fine. Believe me, I could be worse. I could weigh more than five hundred pounds and be required to walk the rounds of a security company’s campus for a living.”

“What an odd comment.” Misty moved aside as the nurse returned.

She scanned Cameron’s wrist band, then the medicine’s container, and clicked a few buttons on the nearby computer before tearing it open and handing it over. Cameron felt almost like a lab rat as she watched him pop the pill into his mouth and swallow. As soon as it was down, he almost opened his mouth to show her that it was empty, but she didn’t insist and turned away with only a brief smile and ‘sleep well’.

Misty crossed her arms and watched the older woman walk away. “She doesn’t have much of a bedside manner.”

“I’m learning not to judge.” Cameron settled himself back down, lowering the bed into position, and closed his eyes. “On the positive side, I haven’t had any other ‘Peter’ issues since I woke up, so that’s good.”

“Well, get some sleep and when I make millions on the book, I’ll give you a 1% royalty.”

“Mmm.” He mumbled, the fuzz already starting to fill his head. “Next time I’ll try to be awake long enough to actually talk to you.”

Even as he said it, Cameron could feel the tiredness closing in like a black cloud. His limbs felt heavy and his mind whirled for a moment as his sister squeezed his hand once more. “Sleep well, big brother. Get better.”

Cameron smiled and let himself drift.

* * *

“Peter! Peter, what are you doing sleeping still?”

Peter heard the annoying sound of his alarm, but even as he reached for it, she shut it off.

“What time is it?” He slapped a hand over his head and dragged it down, trying to wrap his mind around his wife’s frantic words. He must be late. That was the only time she panicked. “What day is it?”

“Peter! It’s Tuesday. Is it really you, babe?”

Peter groaned and rolled over, surprised at how difficult it was. In his dreams, he’d already lost all the weight and ran around with three times as much energy. “Sorry sweetie, I’m so tired today.”

“I’m not surprised. Kenneth told Leana that you circled the compound three times last night!” She sounded relieved, but continued her scolding. “You could kill yourself at that rate. Take it easy tonight, okay?”

Peter nodded and forced himself up. They had to have a firm bed because he couldn’t get up out of anything else, but even so, it was hard. “Don’t worry, I’ll take my shower and be gone.”

“Teresa wanted to play a game of go-fish with you before you leave. Do you think you’ll have time?”

Peter groaned. “Sure, yeah, of course. Have her set it up and we’ll play quickly when I get out.”

“I’ll pack your dinner then?”

The words in his dream echoed at him. Henry’s coaching. “That would be wonderful, but only half of normal. I have to eat less. Or I’ll just pick something up on my way over.”

“Pick something up? You mean eat out?” She shook her head even as she threw open his closet doors and pulled out his uniform. “We don’t have money for that. Teresa wants to join the soccer team and there’s a hundred-dollar fee just to try out.”

“What?” He felt suddenly awake, staring at her in aghast awe. “What on earth do they need that much money for?”

She shrugged. “I can pay for half from my job, but can you pay the rest from yours?”

He considered this. He wanted to get new shoes, and if he was going to have to do rounds every night, it was even more important. But if he cut back on how much he ate, that would save money right there, wouldn’t it? “Yeah, I can make it work.”

Again, she seemed relieved. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Back?” He accepted her kiss with confusion, then took the clothes she proffered.

She waved a hand, dismissing the comment. “It’s nothing. Just go take your shower and I’ll pack your lunch.”

Peter’s head still felt cloudy, like he’d taken Nyquil and it wasn’t out of his system yet. He hurried through his shower, taking time to work through as many creases as he could reach, then hurried to dress, cursing the wet spot between his shoulder blades. Staring at himself in the mirror, he shook his head.

“What now?” he asked the Mexican man. The mirror’s image shrugged along with him. “So, sleep is the trigger. Good to know. I guess I’d better start getting used to it.”

Hanging up the towel, he hurried an electric razor over the worst of his almost non-existent beard, then brushed his teeth until Teresa came to the door, banging to know when he’d be available for their game.

“Ya voy,” he called back, slipping the razor into its spot.

Out in the front room, he dropped with a new level of exhaustion into the chair across from his daughter. He studied her features, remembering the day they’d first met, and holding her tiny form in his arms. How big she’d grown in the past few years. With the memories, and his newfound understanding, came a protective instinct toward the girl, even if she wasn’t blood. Peter loved her as much as he loved Ce.

“Papa?!” She cocked her head sideways. “Are you going to play?”

“Of course.” He swept the fragile cards into his hand and stared at the shapes. “When did we get these cards?”

She giggled. “Papa, you’re not very funny. You gave these to me for my birthday last week.”

Shoot. “Of course, I just wanted to see if you remembered.”

Celina stopped her movements to look at him with a small frown.

Peter shook his head, “Oye, mama, no te preocupas. Hurry with my lunch, please, I have to go.”

“Quin eres?” She asked.

“Soy Peter. Tambien, soy Cameron.” He slapped down a six. “Give me your six.”

“Papa!” Teresa cried, slapping down her own card. “How do you always know?”

“Because I’m magic.” He wiggled his brows up and down.

Celina’s hands trembled slightly as she settled the lunchbox beside him. “Que paso?”

“Mañana.”

“I hate when you two speak in Spanish.” Teresa frowned at them.

“Learn your history and it won’t bother you so much.” Peter wiggled one of her braids. “Now hand over your four.”

She slapped it down on the table.

“Do you have a three?” he asked, giving her a look that always elicited a giggle.

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Go fish.”

He picked up a two and settled back into his seat.

“Do you have a ten?”

He slipped it across the table.

“Peter? What’s this?” Celina picked up his dirty clothes from the laundry room floor adjacent to the dining room. She held up the journal he’s confiscated the day before.

“Ah!” Peter pushed away from the table. “I forgot about that.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” He opened the book and turned through a few pages. The dates were clearly written at the top, and he would have assumed that it merely represented a detailed list of tasks for each day, but some of them didn’t fit right. Ten thirty, for instance, had two conflicting entries. ‘Board meeting’ on the left-hand side of the page, and ‘Erica, ring shopping’ on the right.

Celina looked over his shoulder. “What are you getting my husband into?”

“I am your husband, and I’m not sure yet, but I have a hunch.” He looked at her, not even sure he fully understood it to explain it to her. “I promise we’ll talk in the morning. You don’t work until ten, right?”

“Yes.” She looked uncertain.

“Be patient with me, mi amor.” He kissed her forehead. “No estoy loco.”

“Papa?” Teresa insisted, holding up her cards. “I thought you had to go?”

He hurried back to the table and finished the game, losing by two. After kissing his daughter and hugging her close, savoring her, he hugged his wife more forcefully than he had the day before, but still with some hesitance. Cameron/Peter was coming to terms with the idea that he now ran two lives, but the why still concerned him.

He arrived at work only minutes before the shift started and managed to huff it to the security office just as their shift leader, Nicoli, dismissed the previous shift. Grieves sat in the back, his hat pulled down over his eyes.

Nicoli shuffled together his things, shoving them into a limp backpack, and smiled as Peter came in, out of breath. “Good to see you man, we were all wondering if you’d be behind bars today.”

“I knew he wouldn’t.” The legs of Grieves’ chair hit the ground at the same moment he settled his hat back into place.

“Of course you knew.” The entire room rolled their eyes in unison. Nicoli threw his pack over his shoulder. “Have a great night all, and don’t let the place burn down.”

Grieves stood as well, nodding toward Peter. “My office for a moment, please?”

Peter followed him, unsure of how to take a meeting for the second day in a row.

Grieves waited until he’d entered and closed the door. “Leon said you came to the gym. He said you struggled a lot. I just thought I’d check up and see how you’re feeling today?”

“Terrible, if you want the truth. I’m exhausted and my head is cloudy.” But that might just be the oxycodone in Cameron’s system. He had no idea if there was any connection between the two men’s bodies, especially when things affected the mind. “I’ll keep at it, though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Ban donuts for a month?” he said, half-joking.

“Done.” Grieves responded, totally serious. “Anything else?”

“No, not really. Like Leon and Henry said, it’s got to come from within.”

Grieves chuckled. “You’re too easy. I’m glad you plan to stick with it. I have a thought. You let me know if you think it would help.”

Peter waited, not sure what to expect. Grieves had never shown any interest in him, much less enough to check up on him outside of work—or maybe that’s just what Peter always assumed.

“As you know, I’m the head of the security department, and that gives me a little control over things like salaries and bonuses.”

Peter’s eyes widened despite himself. He tried not to let anticipation creep in.

Grieves laughed at the look of hunger. “I’m willing to offer an additional incentive, over and above whatever bonus you earn based on our merit method, for completion of the first six months of the training regime you set up with them. This is not a deal I offer to most of my people, but when someone is obviously going the extra mile and getting well out of their comfort zone to do it, I want to help wherever I can.”

Peter’s jaw hung down to his second chin. “Sir, that’s not necessary. I’m going to make this change for myself, my family, and for my job. You don’t need to bribe me into doing it.”

“Don’t think of it as a bribe. That’s not what this is. Think of it as a reward, a light at the end of the tunnel, and when it gets hard and you just want to quit, maybe it’ll help you take the next step.”

“Why?” Peter blurted out, still stunned. He’d never before, in all his life, gained the attention of a superior. The only people in his entire world where he felt that someone saw him for who he really was were Celina and Teresa.

Grieves read his face and his own eyes pulled down in sadness. “Because you’re worth it, Peter.”

Still stunned, he followed the man back out into the hall and found his seat along the bank of monitors that overlooked the entire compound. He started at the stationary cameras. Kenneth manned the bank of monitors that flickered through the rotating cameras following Jose in his rounds. They watched as he slowly appeared and disappeared at each station along the path.

When it was his turn, Peter allowing his mind to wander as his feet plodded forward. He needed to call his sister, and probably Laura. He needed to get out of the hospital, and google search to see if he could find any leads beyond the psychiatric institution. He set a to-do list as he moved, jotting it down on a small pad they all kept with them during their rounds. At the last camera, he smiled and waved before heading back inside.

The shift, as most of them were, remained quiet. Third shift employees were the quiet ones, keeping to themselves as they watched over their machines and completed tests. Engineers were rare on this shift, only the techs and scientists remained. As the sun rose the next morning, Peter stretched tired limbs and bid farewell to his mates. The gym was another horrendous experience complete with some sort of kale infused shake, and he managed through it only to lay on his steering wheel for ten minutes trying to regain enough strength to drive back home. He stopped only once at the local library and made copies of every page of Jerry’s journal. Just to be safe, he sent the copies, uncertified, to Cameron. When that was done, he turned toward home, hesitant to face the ‘conversation’ he knew would be coming. Ce was nothing if not determined to understand the truth.

Chapter 3                        Chapter 4a