The Iso-Stasis Experiment (The Experiments) (6 page)

Cal interrupted her, “I have a daughter.”

“Oh,
Caleen
,” Jennifer said as the smile fell from her face. “I didn’t mean it like that, I really didn’t.” Jennifer turned to her right to look at John when she heard his huff.

“She has a daughter and she’s up here for seven months?” John sneered at Cal. “Unreal. We let the person who up and leaves their kid have control over our food? Leaving her kid, that says a lot for her character.” He smirked as he wrote in his notebook. “Remind me not to vote for you for mother of the year.”

Cal stormed toward him, passing Jake who had sprung to his feet. Just as John looked up at her, Cal pulled back, clenched her fist and nailed him hard in the jaw. Taken by surprise by her action and strength, John lost his balance, and his chair flew back, crashing to the floor. Cal shook her hand and walked angrily from the room.

Rubbing his jaw, John began to lift himself off of the floor. He saw before him the uniform pants. “What? Like none of you thought that?”

Harshly, Jake tossed his manuscript at John, smacking him in the chest. “Here, asshole. Because you probably didn’t get one, take mine. Learn your story before you write it.”

John lifted himself to his elbow for support, tossing back the book and smacking Jake in the leg. “I did read it.”

“Bull shit! Because if you did, you wouldn’t have
fuckin
’ said what you did.” Jake bent down, grabbed his book and began to walk away. He stopped just before leaving the room. “You’re just lucky
I
wasn’t the one who nailed you. You wouldn’t be getting up right now.” Surprising those in the room over his personal rage at John’s statement, Jake left.

^^^^

Cal thought she heard the knock on her door as she stood at the bathroom sink. She turned off the cold water under which she had been holding her hand to listen. There
was
a knock, and a voice calling.

“Ms. Reynolds?” Another knock sounded.

Cal shook her head and spoke out loud to herself when she recognized who it was. “Great, another male with attitude and I’m not dealing with his shit.” She stuck her head out the bathroom into her room and yelled coldly. “Leave me alone, please! I’m not in the mood for you.” Still clenching her hand, she returned to the sink, turning the cold water on full blast and submerged her right hand into the stream.

“Ms. Reynolds?” Jake walked through his side of the bathroom.

Jumping a little at his entrance, Cal turned to him with a snap. “Hey! What the hell?”

The expression on his face was not the one she was accustomed to seeing. Instead of smug, Jake looked solicitous, full of concern. Grabbing a hand towel off of the rack, he moved to the sink, keeping his eyes in contact with Cal’s as he reached for her hand. “I’d like to see your hand, Ma’am.” He held it firmly, lifting it from the water and resting it on the towel to examine it. “It doesn’t seem to be broken,” he said softly, “just a small gash.”
 
He lifted the edge of the towel, dabbed the blood and pressed on the wound to check for depth. “You should put some ice on this, Ms. Reynolds.”

“Ms. Reynolds? Ma’am? What’s with the sudden niceties?” Cal asked with skepticism.

“Well . . .” Jake moved his eyes from her hand to meet hers, and raised his eyebrows, “it dawned on me that you’re actually the type of person I could get along with.”

It really wasn’t that funny of a remark, but Cal laughed as if it was. Then just as fast, she turned smug and took her hand from his. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want the honors.” She left the bathroom and went to her room.

Jake followed her. “Look, Ms. Reynolds . . .”

“Hey!” Cal hollered at him. “This is my room. I did not give you permission to enter here. If you want in, you will have to knock on my door, not come in through the bathroom. Got that, Major Graison?”

“Yes.” Despite what she had said, he stayed. “I know we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“We have . . . we have? No, Major Graison, you have.” She pointed at him with her uninjured hand. “I did absolutely nothing to you.”

“Will you quit being so female and stop bitching for one second, please? I’m trying to make amends. Why are you being like this now?”

Shocked by his nerve to even ask, Cal snapped back, “Because you are an asshole.”

“I know I’m an asshole. I’m trying to . . .”

“Out, get out.”

“You know what? That’s fine.” He threw his hands in the air, backed up and walked through the bathroom to his room.

Blowing slowly out her mouth, Cal glanced down to her hand. She raised her head at the knock on her door. “Who is it now?” She walked over and opened it.

Jake stood there one hand on hip, the other, carrying a small tray of ice. “Ms. Reynolds, I thought perhaps you would like some ice for that hand . . .” he showed her it, “Ma’am.”

Cal opened the door wider, totally confused. “What are you doing, Major Graison?”

“I’m trying to call a truce. Truce?”

Cal motioned her hand inward. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” He walked by her and into the bathroom. Cal could hear him clanking the ice tray and a few seconds later he came out with a towel filled with ice. “Here, wrap your hand in this so it doesn’t swell up.”

“Thanks.” Cal wrapped it around her hand. “How did you get to the dining area so fast?”

“I got the ice from my room. I have a small fridge.”

“You have a fridge?” She backed up and sat on the bed.

“May I sit down?” Jake asked.

“Yeah . . . sure, sit.”

Turning his head back to the desk, Jake reached for the chair. As he did, he paused when he saw the photos of Jessie. “It that your daughter?”

Cal nodded. “Yes.”

“She’s beautiful . . . like her mother.” He moved the chair close to the bed and sat down.

Suddenly Cal felt her face turning red and realized she was blushing. “Major, you’re making my head spin from this sudden one eighty.”

“Can we just . . . can we start over, please?” He held out his hand. “My name’s Jake.”

“Cal.” She lifted her injured hand. “Shake it gently.” After the soft handshake, Cal placed the ice on the nightstand. “Now will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Before I do, let me just say . . . I’m . . . on the plane . . . I didn’t mean . . . I’m really . . .”

“Are you trying to apologize?” Cal asked.

With a sigh of relief Jake’s head fell forward. “Yes.”

“You don’t do it much, do you?”

“Never, but I am . . . you know. And I . . . I realized after that impressive show of defense,” Jake cleared his throat, “I realized you and I are a lot alike. Actually, we are very much alike, down to the major tragedies in our lives.”

“Tragedy?” Cal looked curiously at him. “I read that manuscript thoroughly. It said nothing about a major tragedy with you.”

“No, it didn’t.” Jake lowered his head. “I didn’t lose a child like you. I don’t think anything could be that awful. But I lost my parents and my kid sister in a car accident when I was seventeen. I never was the same. They were all I had.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Cal said softly.

Only an uncomfortable nod came from Jake before he spoke again. “So, you see. I misjudged you. I was so wrapped up in the fact that you scored higher than me on the mental evaluations, that I failed to see something very important. In situations like this, you don’t oppose your assets . . . You join them.”

“Great philosophy, I agree. But . . . I didn’t score higher than you. You scored higher than me.”

“No. I scored . . . wait, are you a competitive person Ms. Reynolds?”

“Cal,” she corrected the name before answering. “And yes, very competitive. Seems we started this experiment before we knew it, huh? I had even planned on testing you.”

“They got us.” Jake shook his head with a small smile. “But it won’t happen again.” He stood up. “I think I’ve bothered you enough.” He slid the chair back perfectly, exactly where it had been. “May I go through the bathroom to get to my room?”

“Be my guest,” Cal answered, rising from the bed.

Walking across the room, Jake paused when he spotted the bourbon on the floor “Seems, you and I do think alike. One of my three wishes was beer. Maybe sometime when you and I aren’t competing against each other, we can share our commodities?” He motioned his head to the booze.

“I’d like that.” Cal watched him walk into the bathroom. “Oh. Major, I mean, Jake.” She called out.

“Yes?” He turned to face her.

“I forgot.” She walked up to him and reached to her back pocket. Realizing it was too painful to squeeze her hand in she faced her backside to him. “Could you help me? Reach in my right pocket.”

“What am I reaching for?”

“Just do it.” She felt his hand slip in and pull out the keys.

“
Here.
” He started to hand them to her.

“No. You keep them. You’re the only one who is capable of controlling that storage area.”

Jake dangled the keys. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, too. I see no reason why you can’t keep these.”

“Look at me, Jake. Look at you.” She pushed back his hand as he tried to give her the keys. “You know as well as I do, if someone wants those keys, they aren’t going to have a problem getting them from me. You on the other hand, would be tough to go through. Of course . . .” Cal sniffed in fake arrogance. “I could kick your ass for them.”

Jake with gratitude, clasped them tightly in his hand. After a nod of appreciation, he chuckled.

^^^^

In what he would describe as relaxing attire—a crisp green tee shirt and well broken in camouflage pants—Jake stepped from his room. He stopped before Cal’s door, looked at his watch, raised his hand and then stopped. What was his reason? He had one. But was it good enough? He could ask her to turn down the country music, but she played it so low he would have had to have been listening hard to hear it. And Jake was. On the brink of getting ready to knock, Jake determined his reasoning wasn’t valid enough to disturb Cal and gave up. Just as he turned, her door opened. Jake stopped.

“Jake?” Cal poked her head out. “Were you just standing out here?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat and turned.

“Come in.” Cal opened the door wider.

“Thanks.” Jake stepped just inside her door. “I really didn’t want . . .” his eyes shifted left to the nightstand next to her bed and the empty Peanut Butter Cup wrapper that was just lying there, “want to bother . . .” eyes to Cal, to the night stand, to the bed whose spread was a little ruffled, “ . . . to bother you. I was just curious if . . .”

Cal watched, curious. What was he looking at? Was he hungry for a Peanut Butter Cup? “Jake?”

“Sorry. I was curious if you wanted to . . .” almost in a single motion, Jake stepped into the room, gave a tuck of the spread under the pillow, swiped up the wrapper, crumbled it and tossed it in the trash, before he turned back to Cal, “. . . eat. Did you eat?”

“Are you obsessive-compulsive?”

“No.” Jake shook his head.

“Why did you do that?”

“I hate a mess.”

Cal laughed. “No.”

“No, what?”