Alter-Self - Chapter 4a

 As soon as he arrived, he locked himself in the bathroom. He justified it based on his general stench, but it was really just buying a few extra minutes. Halfway through his shower, the curtain pulled back, and he met his wife’s glare.

“Hola, mi amor.” He smiled at her.

“Don’t ‘my love’ me. You said we’d talk when you got home.”

“And we will! I was just sweaty and disgusting and I wanted to get clean first.”

She looked him up and down in a way that made him blush. She was his wife, he knew that, and she’d done this plenty of times before, but with his new awareness, he had the urge to shield himself from her view.

“Come on now.” He lathered up the brush and scrubbed at his back, turned to face the wall for what little privacy that might offer.

“What is your name?” As always, she neither backed away nor backed down.

“Peter.” He grinned over his shoulder. “But I’m guessing that’s not what you meant.”

“It was something else yesterday. Maybe I should just call Misty?” Her brows lifted, daring him.

“You *69’d my sister?”

“So, you aren’t my husband.”

He sighed and shut off the water, grabbing the oversized towel as he moved out of the cramped space. “Give me a moment to dress?”

“No. You’ll just run and lock yourself in the bedroom. Why were you late today? More espionage to get my husband into trouble?”

Peter chuckled. “No. Seriously, I am your husband, alright?” He tucked the corner into the towel to hold it in place and took her hands in his. “Celina, I am Peter, the man you married almost ten years ago, but I am also another man on the other side of the country.”

“What does that mean?” She pulled her hands free, crossing them over her chest.

“I wish I knew.” He frowned. “Can I pass? I swear I won’t lock the door.”

She gave him a nod and followed close as he made his way to the bedroom. Once there, she stood in front of the door like a sentry.

“I’ll explain what I can. The other me got into an accident yesterday. I woke up in the hospital, but alive. I spent a bit of time with my family, just enough to know that I was hurt, but I’d live. After that I fell asleep and woke here. You know how that went, so I’ll just tell you that I remembered things, memories as if they were dreams. I knew you. I knew Teresa. I knew this life. That’s how I knew how to get to work and what to do.”

She had the same panicked fear as yesterday. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, tears welling in her eyes.

Peter persisted. She could take it. She’d handled much worse. “I thought it was a dream. See, my mother, well, Cameron’s mother, always nagged at him about needing a family, and being in a dead-end job and having a worthless life that never went anywhere. I thought, maybe, something about the accident caused enough injuries that I was hallucinating. After sixteen hours in this body, though, I began to think otherwise.

“Then I went to sleep and woke up back in my hospital bed.”

Celina gasped, her hands over her mouth as she stared in horror toward the shaggy carpet.

Peter forged through. “I spent the day with my mother and then my sister and almost convinced myself that this entire experience had been a strange episode of the twilight zone but then I fell asleep again. They gave me some painkillers that made me drowsy, and I think that’s part of the reason I overslept this evening and woke up late. Sorry about that.”

She crossed herself and stood, pacing across the small room. “This isn’t right.”

“Celina.” He followed her, hands outstretched, but she stopped just short, backing away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Celina!” He frowned. “It’s still me.”

“I don’t know who or what you are, but my husband has never acted at all like this before.”

“Please, mi amor, please. Listen to what I’m saying. It has to be a side effect of the accident. That’s the only possibility. Until I can solve the situation, I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I’m taking Teresa to my mother’s.”

“No, Ce, please!”

“Don’t ‘Ce’ me. You’re not my husband.”

He reached for her, but she pulled away, swatting at his hands like she needed to defend herself. “Don’t touch me!”

“Celina.” He backed away, letting his hands drop. “Okay. I know this has to be a little shocking, and you’ve been amazingly trusting up to this point. I won’t push you further.”

“Just let me pack a bag.” She edged toward her closet as if expecting an attack at any moment.

“I swear I’m Peter.” He assured her, voice low. “I won’t hurt you, but please don’t leave.”

“I’m not staying in this house with a stranger.”

“Okay.” He thought quickly. “Let me leave then. There’s no sense in throwing Teresa into chaos over this. I’ll pack a bag and spend a bit of time over at Tucker’s place.”

“And put them in danger?”

“There’s no danger.” He lost his patience a little. “Babe, it’s really me. I know this is hard for you to accept, and I understand that you need time, but I can’t change what’s happened to me. I’ve started to accept it, and I hope you can too.” He turned, sweeping out the hangers in his closet in one motion, and dumped them across the bed.

Pulling out the suitcase, he dumped everything into it, folding up the legs until they fit, then zipped it closed. One trip into the bathroom retrieved his razor and supplies and he headed for the truck.

Celina waited by the door, arms crossed like normal.

“Ce, I love you, sweetie. I’m leaving for you, and I’ll be back for you when you’re ready.”

She didn’t say anything else before slamming over the wrought iron screen door and locking it in place.

Peter felt tired. Doubly exhausted. He was losing her, and that bothered him; terrified him. She was his world. She’d stuck with him, despite everything; believed in him even after what her good-for-nothing ex-husband had done to her and Teresa.

Peter turned down his best friend’s street and settled into the man’s drive, then realized he should have called first. Pulling himself free of the old metal shell, he walked up to the door, suitcase in hand, and tapped lightly on the wood. Tucker worked graveyards too, which made their friendship an easy one because their patterns matched.

He heard a groan from inside the small townhome and the chains slid out of place, followed by the click of the deadbolt and finally the click of the knob. “What d’ya want, man?”

Tucker took in his suitcase, and the sleep seemed to disappear from his eyes. “Whoa. What’s going on?”

“Long story. I’m not really willing to spill at the moment, and I’m as exhausted as you. Can I come in and crash on your couch?”

“You won’t fit on my couch.” His best friend joked, then let his own chuckle die on his lips. “Sorry, probably not the right time for fat jokes.”

“Yeah, probably not.” Peter pushed past and dropped his case next to the couch. The dark, dingy apartment did nothing to cheer him up, but at the moment, Peter wanted nothing more than to sleep. He needed some answers.

Tucker locked the door again and shuffled back to his room without another word, leaving Peter in the darkened living room. He settled himself onto the small couch, turning until the thin shelf supported most of his bulk, then shut his eyes and willed himself to sleep. It took a while, but his mind finally drifted into oblivion.

* * *

The sound of a heavy door closing woke him with a start. He jumped, and Misty jumped beside him, reacting both to the noise and her brother’s sudden movement.

“Whoa, welcome back to the land of the living,” she joked.

“I need my phone.”

Misty caught his tone and moved her laptop aside immediately. She handed him the phone and watched him sort through for Shawn’s number.

“Shawn?”

“Hey man! How’re you feeling? Still in the hospital?”

“Yeah, hey, I need your help.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to find out how a girl Maury and a girl Erika connect to Wormheimer. They might be kids or sisters or just friends. I don’t know, but I know they’re close to him somehow.”

“Uh.”

“I know that’s an odd request, but I need you to find out for me.” He’d meant to take care of this during one of his breaks last night, but work distracted him.

“Okay. Sure. Maury and Erika? Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on it.”

“Be discrete.”

“You’re making this sound like some covert op.”

“It’s nothing like that. It’s for a friend of mine. The guy is being sued by Wormheimer and he found some information that might help, but I’m trying to make sure that it’s actually connected—if that makes any sense.” Cameron finished lamely, sounding like a complete fool. “Alright, well, thanks for that, and I’ll owe you when I get out of here.”

“Sure thing.” Shawn hung up, not one to spend a lot of time on the phone.

“Alright. Spill.” Misty settled forward in her seat, staring him down.

“I switched again. It’s triggered by falling asleep. I’m not sure how it all works. I mean, I spent more than sixteen hours over there, but I haven’t been asleep for that long, right? So I’m not sure.”

“Why are you researching Wormheimer, and who is that?”

“A hunch. I’m just trying to help out a friend, that’s all.” He fell silent, contemplating the ceiling. “Hey, Misty, odd question, but if you were on the fritz with your boyfriend, what could he do to soften your heart toward him?”

“If he made a mistake?”

“No mistake, but definitely a misunderstanding and maybe a little mistrust on her part…I mean, your part.”

“I need more details. What did you do? Does this relate to the other you?”

“His name is Peter.”

“Your alter-ego?” She covered her mouth to hide a shocked laugh.

“I thought it was a made-up alter ego. I use it when I don’t know the other party in a potential business deal, but I guess it was really this other me.”

“You sound crazy.”

“I’m beginning to feel crazy.” He closed his eyes and took a few breaths. “I need to get out of here.”

“Broken limbs aside, the doctors are worried about your minor concussion and a few wounds they had to stitch up.”

That’s right. He’d never taken a full inventory of his injuries. They spent the next few hours talking about that, and about how long it was going to take to get free of the hospital. The doctor came in to check on him and gave a generic ‘few days’ as long as he continued to mend. Misty scribed a list of errands she could run on his behalf, and he finally realized he needed to contact his bosses.

Misty left him sometime around dinnertime and Cameron stared into space, contemplating his other self and the contrasts between their lives. Granted, Peter was in his forties, a good ten years older than Cameron, but the man had everything Cameron’s mother said he should be going for. Ce was the best wife a man could have, utterly devoted and willing, and Teresa accepted him for who he was, no strings attached. Peter struggled to maintain a steady income and his weight prevented him from so much, but they didn’t judge him for it. Cameron, on the other hand, had wealth Peter would only dream of by comparison, but nothing else. Which life was better?

By the end of the day, he was more than ready for the doctor to give him another oxycodone and the world faded.

This time he woke only an hour later and still in the hospital. He wasn’t positive, but it didn’t feel like he’d slipped into Peter’s life at all. Misty was gone, too.

For something to do, he flipped on the news and watched a few local reports before the larger network took over.

“Hi and welcome to Live after 5. Tonight, we’ve got a few recent stories and some follow up on the old ones, but first, Jeremy Hurst is going to give us our business update. Jeremy?”

Jeremy’s face came into view with the stock ticker below him. “Well, the biggest news today is really one of those continuations you mentioned.”

A photo of the gray-haired mogul appeared in the bottom right corner.

“Ronald Clement’s company announced a massive merger with Arizona-based Palisades Corporation. The combination marks a potential windfall for their industries and poses some unique questions for stock buyers. Palisades completes research and development on behalf of many industry leaders. Their patented ideas sell for two to three million on average, and the research and development arm of the company is ranked one of the top in the nation for accuracy and reliability.”

The image of Ronald transitioned to Jerry. “Until recently, Palisades was also the home of scientist and CEO, Jerry Wormheimer. Not many days before the merger announcement, they accused him of stealing some of their research as the basis for his fast-growing startup. There is considerable uncertainty about the lawsuit filed by Palisades, and potential changes for Jerry’s business, considering his most significant benefactor is Ronald Clement, their new boss.”

Cameron stared at the screen, dumbfounded. He thought through Jerry’s words the one time he’d met the man. The screen shifted to Ronald leaning over, ready to sign the paperwork. One hand tapped against his thigh as he reviewed it briefly, though Cameron could only assume his lawyers had already been through it with a fine-toothed comb.

As soon as the thigh-tapping stopped, the man leaned forward and signed, then shook hands with Palisade’s chairman of the Board. The chairman had a set smile on his face that didn’t extend to his eyes. He wasn’t happy about the deal.

The feed switched back to Jeremy briefly as he gave a few more interesting stock updates for the day and then panned back to the studio and the next anchor.

Cameron didn’t hear any of it. He felt his blood pressure rising and searched frantically for his phone. What a time for his family to take a break. Retrieving it, accompanied by considerable pain at the effort, he dialed Laura’s number and waited impatiently for her to answer. “Laura, have you heard the most recent news on Wormheimer’s company?”

“Yeah.” She sounded glum. “Bad news. With this deal moving forward, they’ve stopped any new contracts and aren’t considering further agreements.”

“Well,” he fought the panic, “we’ve still got a few other options, right?”

“No, not really.” She paused. “I’m sorry Pe—Cameron. I’ve got no choice but to shelf this for now. As a 50% owner, you’ll get back half of whatever’s left after I clean this mess up.”

Cameron’s cheeks puckered. The TV was on mute, but he watched the silent footage as they showed some mud slide somewhere and a forest fire somewhere else. “I know you spent most of it on the prototypes. Send back whatever you can. Let me know if you end up finding someone to launch. I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Laura.”

It could be worse. Logically, he understood that, but emotionally, he felt like he’d hit a brick wall at sixty. That was all of his excess savings and his retirement. Now what? Back to the lab? He had a few contracts still open, but this should have been his big break. That thought brought him back around to his open contracts and the looming deadlines associated with each. Impatience made him twitch as he stared around the sterile room. He needed to get out of here and take back control of his life.

Chapter 4                        Chapter 5