June's astonishment turned to embarrassment. “I'm sorry I showed up unannounced. I forgot that it was your birthday. Maybe I should come back another time?”
“No, no,” Rob said, drawing a confused look from Carol. “I didn't mean it like that.” He noticed the towels and the fact that she was drenched for the first time. “Do we have anything she can change into?”
“What?” Carol was confused, but looked back at June. “Sure. Come inside and we’ll get you some dry clothes.”
Minutes later, June found herself alone with Rob, sitting in the family’s living room. There were toys strewn about, and a VeggieTales movie was playing on the muted television. She was wearing one of Rob's bathrobes, as Carol had thrown her clothes into the drier. An uncomfortable tension hung in the air as they sat there in silence. June was in a chair and Rob was on the couch. Above the TV was a mantle where a number of family pictures were displayed. June stood and picked one up to study. “You have a beautiful family … Rob.”
“Thank you very much,” he replied. He could feel that she was uncomfortable, but chalked it up to this being her first meeting with Carol and the kids. “How are the chimps faring?”
“They’re well, considering. Each pair is adapting to their new environment and they seem to be making the transition fairly well.” She had seen the scar on his hand when they first entered the house. When she did, her uneasiness had been replaced with resolve. She squared her shoulders and looked into his eyes, determined to get some answers. “South America, huh?”
Rob knitted his brows together. “Excuse me?”
She leaned toward him. “You told me you were going to South America so you could think. When’d ya get back?”
“South America?” He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, Rob. Just tell me what all of this has been about. I deserve that much, don’t I? Was this really all about me? Did someone order some kind of experiment to see how I’d react under stress? Or what?”
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, searching her face.
“No, Rob. No, I am most definitely not feeling alright.” She rested her head on the back of the chair, gazing up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I broke the rules and came here. I might be going to prison for the rest of my life if they find out, but I’m here now. The least you could do is tell me what all of this was for.”
“All of what? June, you’re not making any sense.”
“Oh, you guys did a really fine job with everything. The lab, the truck crash, your fight with Covington was very convincing. Oh, and shooting me was a nice touch.”
“Shooting you? June, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“Is everything alright?” Carol asked as she rounded a corner carrying a pitcher of iced tea and some glasses.
“I really don’t think so.” Rob eyed June warily.
June watched as Carol placed her tray on the coffee table. “Is this what your husband does for a living? Help the government screw with people’s lives?”
“Rob, should I call somebody?” Carol asked, not taking her eyes off of June.
“Yeah,” June's eyes narrowed, “go and call Walsh. He’s in charge isn’t he?” June’s agitation was growing. “That was a good trick too, making me think he was killed.”
Rob stood and stiffened. “Benny Walsh is dead. He was killed in the crash.”
“Sure he was,” June smiled. “But you’re getting your story mixed up now, aren’t you Commander? If you’re really in the Navy.”
“Yes I am. I’m on terminal leave now. I’m retiring.”
“Of course you are. Better keep your facts straight. Except Walsh didn’t die in the crash. He was shot right in front of me. I had fake blood all over me.”
“What?” Rob said incredulously. “Benny was shot?”
His reaction silenced her. She was taken aback by the genuine emotion in the man’s eyes. What she saw in those eyes made her blood curdle. She saw rage.
It took all of a second for Rob to regain his composure and when he did, he spoke in a tone that sent chills up June’s spine. “Doctor Phillips. Up to now you haven’t made any sense, but you’re about to.” He took a step toward her.
“Rob!” Carol grabbed him by the arm.
June didn’t know what to say. Rob was in complete control of the situation, and whatever it was that she had begun to suspect was melting away like snow in a blast furnace. Confusion was beginning to overwhelm her. She had come here to see the clone, to find out why they were conducting this elaborate ruse. But the man standing before her was Rob Tyler, she was sure of it. And yet she was sure that the man she had been with in Florida was Rob. There was plenty of time for him to get to South Carolina while she was being held, but what was the point of it all?
“Lady,” he stabbed a finger at her, “you had better start talkin’.’”
She ignored the implied threat and tried to understand the only horrifying conclusion that she could make. She bit her lower lip. “Do you remember the night before they put you into the scanner?”
“What? Um, yeah, we went and visited with the chimps.”
“Before that,” June prodded.
“You mean when I cut my hand?” he asked, reflexively looking at the fading scar.
“Yeah.”
“I don't understand,” Carol said, more annoyed than confused. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“What's this all about, June?” Rob asked impatiently.
June put her head in her hands and stared at the carpet. When she lifted it again she looked at Carol. “How much does she know?”
“I don’t keep secrets from my wife any more,” Rob said, putting his arm around Carol.
June’s expression remained blank as she considered the possibilities. Finally, she asked, “What did they tell you happened to the clone?”
“That it died, that the experiment was a failure.”
She stood up. “I have to go.” She started for the door.
“Wait,” Carol said. “What about your clothes?”
Rob followed. “Wait a minute!” He grabbed her sleeve, spinning her around.
“Don't touch me!” she shouted.
Rob recoiled from the unexpected reaction. “June you’re obviously upset, but you’re still not making any sense. It’s me. We’re friends. Now tell me, what happened to Benny?”
“It's you, huh? It's you, right?” She was shaking and tears were welling in her eyes. She couldn't process what her senses were telling her.
“Rob, should I call someone?” Carol asked again, fearing June was having some kind of emotional breakdown.
“Give me a minute, Button,” he answered. He tried to take June by the shoulders, but she jerked away from him. “June, tell me what's going on!”
“Who was it that told you that the clone died?”
“Greg and Don.”
She looked at the floor. “They’re in on it too.”
Rob frowned. He was trying to be patient with the apparently unbalanced woman, but he wanted answers. “In on what? June, what happened to Benny?”
She didn’t hear the question and time seemed to stop. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “They lied to you, Rob. That’s not what happened.”
“What? What do you mean?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage. When she opened them again, she turned and grabbed Carol by the arm. Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper as she looked into her eyes. “The clone lived.”
* * * * *
ROB WAS SITTING AT GATE T-2 in Rio de Janeiro-Galeão International Airport. He was staring at the Sky Chef truck just pulling away from the TAM Airline Airbus 320. The ground crew finished transferring passenger luggage from the carts to the belly of the red and white aircraft. He glanced at his watch, its radial face set to local time. It read 11:50 a.m.
“Happy birthday,” he said to himself unenthusiastically.
r /> Reaching down, he unzipped one of the compartments of his carry-on bag that was sitting at his feet and withdrew a package of trail mix. Using his teeth, he tore it open and began munching on its contents. Across from him he noticed a woman staring at him as she sat with a small child of about eight years who was smiling at him. She leaned over and whispered into the boy's ear. Rob's Portuguese was terrible, but he got the gist of what she was telling the boy when she imitated the way he had used his teeth to open the package.
“Bad example,” he said. “Arrependido.”
The woman turned away, but the boy continued smiling. Rob returned the smile, then turned toward the window as he tried unsuccessfully to picture his children, and wondered when he might see Carol again.
He had made a few inquiries into June’s whereabouts using Internet cafés throughout the city, but came up empty. In the weeks since he left her in Florida, he hadn't been able to learn anything new about his situation. But as much as he had wanted to, he hadn't tried to contact family or friends. His frustration had grown, and as time went on he was forced to concede that he couldn't handle the situation on his own.
He needed help.
His thoughts, once again, returned to his family. He wondered what they might be doing at that moment. Are they mourning the fact that I’m not there to celebrate my birthday with them? Are they at Carol’s parent’s house or maybe dad’s? What had they been told about my absence? Had they been told anything at all?
Reaching into his bag, he removed the satellite phone he had purchased from a black market dealer a week before. He decided it was time he made contact with someone in his family. Even if they, whoever they were, had tapped their phones, they couldn't possibly track him down before the plane was in the air. He wouldn't be returning to Brazil any time soon, so he deemed it fairly safe to make the call.
Over the intercom came an announcement. “Atenção por favor, vôo de Linha Aérea de TAM JJ "três cinco quatro cinco" a Sau Paulo está embarcando agora na porta t dos. Attention please, TAM Airlines flight JJ three-five-four-five to Sau Paulo is now boarding at gate T two.”
As people around him gathered their belongings and started for the boarding passageway, he dialed the number and placed the phone to his ear. It took several moments to connect so he glanced up at the television mounted to one of the support beams and saw the sickening scenes of the September eleventh tragedy that had happened nine years before. Scenes like them had been shown repeatedly all morning long, and he was experiencing the same emotions as he had on that fateful day so many years before.
“Hello?” an unfamiliar female voice answered, startling him back to the present.
“It’s … it's Rob,” he said tentatively.
“Well happy birthday, birthday boy!” she said enthusiastically.
Rob gave the phone a strange look. Did I dial the wrong number? “Thank you. Is Ted Tyler there?”
“Ted Tyler?” the voice repeated. “No. He went over to your house. He left twenty minutes ago. He should be there by now. Why are you being so formal, Rob?”
“Crap!” He ignored the woman’s question. “I need to leave him a message.”
There was a brief pause. “Well, can't you just tell him when he gets there?”
Rob's confusion was growing. Maybe she thinks I'm someone else. But then, she had wished him a happy birthday. “This is Rob,” he repeated.
“Well of course you're Rob. Who else would you be?”
Rob shook his head. “Look, I don't have time to explain right now. Just tell Ted that I'm okay, but that I'll be gone for a while. Then ask him to relay that to Carol and the kids, okay?”
There was another pause. “Well, what about your party? Aren't you going to be there?”
He was beginning to wonder if the woman was stricken with some form of dementia. “I think I must have the wrong number.”
“Well Rob, I don't understand. Who were you trying to call?”
“Who is this?” he asked.
“Who is this? Rob is this some kind of a game? It’s Mary.”
He had no idea how to respond. “Just … give Ted the message, alright?”
“Well, I don’t understand, but okay,” She said with just a hint of exasperation.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that, hun?”
“Tell him to pray for me.”
“Oh Rob, you're in our prayers every day.”
“Okay, I gotta go.” He looked back at the plane as passengers were boarding.
“I'll be over in about an hour,” she said. “I'm just finishing up decorating your cake.”
Rob could hear her smile clearly through the phone. He thought about saying something else, but had no idea what. “Goodbye.”
“Bye, bye birthday boy! See you in a bit.”
He listened until he heard the click that told him the connection had been terminated, and then he turned off the phone. As he put it back in his bag, the woman's voice came over the intercom again, repeating the boarding call.
The flight was far from full, and most of the other passengers had already boarded. He made his way to the counter and handed the ticket to the attractive woman at the doorway wearing the airline's uniform. “Welcome aboard Senhor Pray. Enjoy your flight,” she said with a heavy accent as she handed the ticket back.
“Os meus agradecimentos,” he replied.
As he walked down the boarding ramp, he was comforted by the fact that at his destination was a person he trusted without reservation. Someone unknown to anyone outside of his family and close circle of friends, and who had the means to help him find some much-needed answers to some very important questions.
Silently, he began reciting the Lord's Prayer.
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