Stories For Life

Welcome! We have classic audiobooks as well as both written and audiobook projects of my own.

Classic Audiobooks

• Winnie the Pooh. I’ve read this story to my children countless times. Now you can listen to it as well! There’s no better way to relax than to hear what the silly old bear has been up to.

My bookshelf

• Letters to my Father. The words I will give to my son to explain how you court a woman.
• Unhooked. In a society where everyone sleeps 20 hours a day, a young man learns to wake up.
• The Shifter. The most unusual date you’ve ever heard of.

You can also check out my short stories in the tabs at the top, and my librivox account can be found here.

The First Martian

I was raised by three parents. My mother was a very nurturing woman who made sure I always felt loved and cared for. My father was a great protector who saw that I was provided everything I needed to survive.

Then, there was earth. I was always surrounded by earth. Every book I read. Every movie I saw, even most of the pictures I had were from earth. My mother provided love, and my father provided protection, but earth provided my dreams. All I ever heard about was earth. Whose getting elected on earth. What great new technologies are being made on earth. What great new places have been gone to and explored.

There was great technology and natural beauty on Mars. Our canyons were deeper, and our mountains were higher. Our hydroponics farms and fusion generators were a new wave of technology that was unrivaled on earth, even all these years later, but it was all boring, all lifeless, all purposeless. The farms gave bland food that only served to provide for our barest nutritional needs. The mountains were as inaccessible as the moons of Jupiter. They existed, but I would never see them, and the fusion generators? Out of sight and out of mind. The lights might as well have been powered by ghosts.

My daily life was blank metal and plastic walls and formless nutritional wafers. A blank slate, that’s what my life was. A blank slate onto which I projected earth. Beyond the cold lifeless walls, I imagined not dull red earth, but vibrant grass, trees that reached for the sky, and animals. Deer peeking out from behind every bush, and squirrels scurrying through the branches of every tree. Giant cities populated by countless millions of other people. I could actually meet others my own age.

My parents told me I was the first martian. They were the only couple that had been allowed on the way mission to Mars, and I was their only child. If I was to ever know what it was like to play a real game with others my own age, or to ever know the joy of a date. I had to get off this planet. My parents told me that it wasn’t possible. No government could afford to bring us back, but… hang on, what’s that in the sky? There aren’t any meteor showers scheduled for today.

“Honey! Come down off the observation deck and get your nice clothes on!” My mother called. “The Mars settler mark 2 is landing, and honey.” My mother paused for dramatic affect. “There’s a girl on board.”

Nobody helps the homeless like the homeless

I had an opportunity to verify(somewhat) the data I talked about in the last real life story. When I was talking to one of the panhandlers she said that she might make 50 dollars in a day, and couldn’t afford even low income housing. I visually got to verify this as there was only one donation in an hour period, and it couldn’t have been for more than six or seven dollars at the most.

Drawing that back to the title, the donation was once again from one of the more disheveled cars at the intersection. To add to that, there were three panhandlers at the intersection, and while I was talking to one of them, another went and gave her lunch to the third. She’s surviving off the kindness of strangers, and she readily gave up a meal to somebody else.

It kind of makes me feel inadequate somewhat, because it’s easy for me to give. I’m not struggling financially, so going out and giving some food to a few panhandlers is really no big deal, but that lady might have given up her meal for the day, or at least that meal represented a much higher percentage of her daily income than what I give. I don’t want to give numbers about what I make, but suffice it to say I can live by myself without much difficulty. This lady on the other hand, probably makes between 50-100 dollars in a week, so that one meal was likely 5-10% of the money she made that week. To say nothing of the fact that she could have saved a few dollars by eating that meal, and used the extra money to buy an additional blanket.

Speaking of blankets, next winter I think it might be a good idea to hand those out. They’re not terribly expensive, and they’d help out with sleeping in the cold. It got down to almost freezing that night, and two of the panhandlers were going to be forced into sleeping outside in a local park. Writing this up makes me feel a little silly for feeling cold on my forty foot walk from my nice warm house to my soon-to-be-warm car.

Something that always makes me feel awkward, is when I got out to talk with panhandlers, and they thank me for coming out. What they do for each other requires far more sacrifice than what I do for them, and it’s really inspiring to be a part of. I heard a quote the other day ‘the poor are first to suffer, but also first to help’, and it’s absolutely true. Makes me feel a bit more secure about myself. In the extremely unlikely even that I’d ever be in their shoes, I’d be around plenty of people who were eager to help me. They might all be other panhandlers, but that’d be just fine.

As always, would love to hear you guys’ stories, and shout out to /r/homeless.

It was a dark and stormy night when I heard a voice come from the attic….

My friend jumped so high his head almost hit the ceiling.

“What was that!?” He demanded of me. My parents were away, it was stormy outside, and a deep guttural voice from above us had just asked us a question.

Before I could answer he runs to my door and locks it. He’s not a moment too soon, because there is a creaking sound from overhead as the door to the attic opens. It’s decided to come down.

“Did you hear that!?” He frantically demands, looking around desperately for something to block the door.

“It’s m…” I start to say, but he cuts me off. There are footfalls outside my door, and my friend loses it.

“It’s coming!” He shouts, diving behind my bed and covering his head. He’s shaking now, but he can’t help but look at the door as a forceful knocking sound rattles the room.

A hear a squeak from my friend as I get out of bed and move toward the door.

“Don’t touch that!” He orders as I reach for the door handle. I ignore him and open the door to be greeted by what appears to be an eight foot tall jet black yeti with fangs.

“Dude the wi-fi is out.” He tells me.

“Sorry man, I’ll go power cycle the router and see if that helps. You good up there? Any leaks?” I ask.

“Naw man, it’s all good. I was just in the middle of something you know?” He says.

“What are you doing!” My friend exclaims, flabbergasted at the interaction that is taking place.

“I tried to tell you it’s no big deal.” I inform my friend. “♪Cause I’m friends with the monster that sleeps over my head.♫”

An expedition stumbles upon an ancient group of humanoid aliens

As soon as we stepped off the Appalachian trail into the forgotten village, we were swept away by the elder. He had seven eyes and three arms, and called us each by name. The strange man gathered his people to us, and told us of their story.

We took many pictures, and if there had been cell signal, we would’ve called all our friends and colleagues immediately. This was the find of the millennium!

After being regaled by the alien village elder he took us aside one by one into his lodgings, and whenever one of us emerged we wore an expression of utter awe and peace with the world.

When it was my turn to enter into the sacred lodge I was frightened, but I had no need to worry. The village elder told me everything I knew, laid my own life story before me, and told me how it would end. He spoke of my future spouse and children. He told me that my past transgressions against my fellow man were small, and were far outweighed by my contributions.

Hours seemed to pass in that lodge, but when I had emerged a mere fifteen minutes had transpired, and I too wore an expression of peace with the world.

There was food and celebration, and when the sun began to set the villagers urged us on our way. No wanting to displease these marvelous beings, and eager to report their whereabouts, we departed.

At the outskirts of the village the elder stopped to speak with me a moment.

“My son, once you have lost sight of our village you will forget it ever existed. Every picture you took will show only shrubbery, and every face that you remember will seem to be just a tree. We live a peaceful existence and cannot have our secret spoiled, but you shall carry with you, now and always, the serenity you now feel.” I was taken aback.

“Thank you friend for your gift of serenity, but how can your secret survive? Surely someone will come through here eventually.” The elder grinned knowingly.

“My son, this is New Jersey. We’ve worked many centuries to insure that no one wants to come here. Did you not see the Jersey Shore? My name is Snooki, and I bid thee farewell.”

Edit: i have been to new jersey several times, and know a few friends from there. It is a perfectly nice place IMO, but i just couldn’t resist taking a crack :).

The shifter, edited, in a downloadable format, with partial audio

Original post:[The Shifter](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wb322/wp_a_shapeshifter_deals_with_an_existential/)

PDF download(free): [The Shifter](https://samgalimore.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/the-shifter.pdf)

Amazon link(if you’re feeling generous): [The Shifter](http://www.amazon.com/Shifter-Sam-Galimore-ebook/dp/B00UA6KFO0/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1425592610&sr=8-1-fkmr0&keywords=the+shape+shifter+sam+galimore)

First bit of the audiobook: [The shifter audio](https://clyp.it/iru4c20s)

Another /r/writingprompt book/novelette finished. This one was completely unplanned. I kept trying to end it as quickly as possible but the story just kept on running. It was so much fun talking with all of you as the thing came out part by part, and I am looking forward to the next time :).

If you read this the first time around, this new version is more polished, having gone through a couple drafts to remove errors. It also has a few sentences and paragraphs added in to smooth out character arcs, but the biggest change is the ending. There’s a page or two right at the climax that are entirely new, and I think will provide much better closure for the reader.

Shameless plug time! If you liked this one, there are two more(not in this series), that you might like. [Letters to my father](https://samgalimore.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/letters-to-my-father.pdf), about a daughter who leaves her father a series of letters in a desperate attempt to fix his future. And [Unhooked](https://samgalimore.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/unhooked.pdf), about a dystopian society where almost everyone spends their lives in lucid dreams, and one man decides to wake up.

That’s all for now, if you guys like the audio version I may run with that, but right now I’m just happy that this is all polished up and ready to go. Thanks again guys!

Until the next journey,

*S.D.G*

Then line, and maybe strategy change(real life story)

Hey guys,

Been a while since I posted one of these. I got snowed out one weekend, and had a weekend-long commitment on another, but now I’m back, and it was really good to get back out there and hang out with the less fortunate.

It was another super busy one. The very first intersection I drove to had three panhandlers. I haven’t seen an almost ‘fully loaded’ intersection like that in a while. I guess times are rough now.

Having three people at one intersection made it a little interesting, and I had to rethink my approach. Normally it’s just walk up to the only person there and ask ‘hey, I don’t have any cash on me, but I was going to get some food if you want to come’, and then we get food. With three people I think it would’ve been fairly rude to just take one person, so I decided I would start with one person, and just work my way around, seeing if anybody wanted to come. If they accepted I would then circle back once I reached the last person, and take all three(or whoever wanted to come), to get something to eat.

Oddly enough, nobody accepted, all three people said they really couldn’t leave their spot, but I ended up getting to feed people by just making a run through a nearby burger king.

I still got to talk to people, but this is making me rethink my strategy. The goal is not just to feed people, but to give them a little time where you can talk to them as another human being on an equal level. However, it does limit me to talking to just one person at a time, and it’s not the most efficient thing in the world. I’m thinking of changing from taking one person(or even a group of people) to lunch, to just going around an intersection, finding what people want, and just making a food run.

This strategy of making a ‘food run’, did still allow for some time to talk with people. I had a chat with one guy for probably 10-15 minutes about jobs. I am extremely blessed to be working in a field that I love, have good job security, and pretty good pay with upward mobility. This guy, until recently, had been in a similar situation(minus the job security). He was something of a local celebrity, and went to school to work in his field, and loved working in his field every day.

The other two people also had what I would consider fairly ordinary jobs that would provide a steady income. Then stuff happened, and now they’re on street corners relying on the kindness of strangers. The scariest part was one of the three said he was there because of a medical situation(got hit by a drunk driver), and the last time I was out both of the panhandlers I talked to said they were on the street in part because of a medical situation. I’ve got pretty rock solid coverage, but it still is somewhat worrisome to think how easy it is to suddenly find yourself in that situation.

I’m now looking through youtube to find a video of this local celebrity, and it’s a fairly surreal experience. Feels kind of like the beginning of a book or something. I won’t post anything if I find it, but I’ve already got one video that might be him. It’s hard to tell because being out in the element changes you a bit, but I think it might be. Famous to homeless(or at least jobless), in no time flat.

Last thought, really thinking about changing from a one on one ‘let’s go eat’ to ‘I’m making a food run, what do you want?’ It would let me do 4-5 people instead of 1-2, and would still let me have an opportunity to share their story.

As usual, I’d love to hear any experiences you guys have had with the less fortunate. I’ll see you guys later!

S.D.G

Everyone on earth who has had sex in the last five years dies. The remainder inherit the earth.

“Dude, don’t forget the Mentos, we can use those to make bombs.” I the elementary schooler in charge of rounding up the remaining candy at the Toy store. It was the first toy raid that Tommy allowed me to supervise. Tommy was a twenty something who said he had come back ‘from beyond the veil’, to save us once all the other adults had died. Most of the high schoolers, especially the high school girls, had died too.

“Board game section pillaged sir, they had the new settlers of catan expansion.” Another elementary schooler reported.

“Excellent, Tommy loves those games. He will be most pleased.” I tossed the kid a snickers bar as a reward.

“We need to make sure spirits are as high as possible tonight. We’re going to TP the girl’s camp tonight, and we lost three men to the spit wad catapults last time.” That reminded me. “Timothy!” I shouted to the kid who was pilfering costumes over in the toy section. “Be sure and get as much body armor as possible, and make it quick, we don’t want to get caught by the wizards.” I had never met the wizards, but Tommy assured me they existed.

They were men who hadn’t been taken. Men with long robes who kidnapped and ate little boys who took too long gathering supplies.

We heard a distant rumbling on the wind. “The wizards are coming!” I shouted. “Everybody drop what you’re doing and run for it!” Items clattered to the floor as the little vagrants dashed for the door. The little kid in charge of the candy foolishly decided to attempt to make off with all his ill gotten goods.

The rumbling grew louder as they reached the door, and the lad with the candy began to lag behind. The others didn’t notice until they were several blocks away. By then, it was too late.

“Oh look Brother Matt, it’s another group of wandering orphans. Shall we see if they need anything?” Brother Stephen asked me.

“No Brother Stephen, they look like they don’t particularly want to talk to us. On second thought, that slow one looks like he’s taken only candy from that store. I’ll bet he’s got frightfully bad cavities. We better bring him back to the abby and see to his teeth.”

The face of romance part 5 (the conclusion)

“The resemblance is remarkable.” I continue. “I couldn’t feel any prosthetics or anything while I was having my up-close experience of your face so I figured you must have some super high tech next generation facial modeling kit or something. Can you take it off? I didn’t want to bring it up while you were having memory issues, but it’s pretty weird kissing someone who looks like someone else. I mean if your voice wasn’t the same I would’ve thought you were him.”

We both sit up on the couch. “Uh yeah, I know the guy, his name is Ryan. We work together. He saw me having a little trouble remembering my face so he let me borrow his.” This guy sure was taking this costume thing seriously.

“So does he have your face now? Did you guys swap? And how do you take that thing off. I don’t see any seam or anything.” I looked around his jawline to see if there was some transition from his own skin to the prosthetic mask, but if it was there I couldn’t tell.

“Uh no.” Ryan looks sheepish all of the sudden. “See, I can do… This.” He waved his hand over his face, and when his hand passed by his face suddenly changed from Ryan’s, to mine.

I back peddled off the couch. I had been lying to myself about what was going on, and it all came crashing down. I had been blocking out how weird it was to be talking to somebody wearing his friend’s face. I had been blocking out how abnormal it was to be this attached to somebody this quickly. It had gone completely over my head how irrational, teenage girl, first crush type behavior it was to go after a guy so hard when he clearly just wanted to forget you.

“Wait Jennifer, it’s not that bad. Look, I have a license.” He was reaching for his wallet but I didn’t want to hear it. Weird mental disorders that spontaneously went away when you kissed somebody? What had I been thinking? I stumbled into the kitchen, trying to find my way to the door.

“Jennifer please, I remember now.” Oh now he remembers everything. After he had reeled me in with the ridiculous ‘poor pathetic’ me act, made me do this whole ‘help me remember’ routine. Now he remembered. Florence nightingale syndrome, that’s what this was. Just a sick guy who I happened to fall for, and sick was right. This was sick.

He’s run around in front of me now. He’s blocking the door.

“Out of the way Jason.” I order him.

“No, Jennifer I can’t let you go just yet. You’ve helped me figure something out.” This was rich. Now that he had dropped the ‘hey I’m something cooked up in a lab by a mad scientist’ line, now he had it all figured out. Just what had he done to his face anyway?

“Helped you figure out what? Kissing girls magically heals your fake poorly defined memory disorder? Let me go Jason. I just really need to go.” He started edging away from the door. In a second there would be enough room for me to get by.

“You’ve always wanted to go to Ireland and Cacti don’t need to be water almost at all.” How had he known that?

“How did you know that?” I demand. He’s slipped away from the door enough to let me go through, but I have to hear how he’s discovered this about me.

“Because there’s something else you don’t know, but before you leave I have to tell you what I’ve figured out.” I fold my arms. I have a way of escape now, so if this isn’t really convincing I can run for it.

I don’t say anything, but he takes my silence for permission, and starts to speak.

“It’s not kissing that triggers my memory loss or gain. It’s strong emotion. My face slips when I feel it, and I didn’t realize that my mind did too.” He demonstrates his face ‘slipping’, and my stomach turns. “I know that I got really angry earlier today and somehow that made me forget all about you. Just now on the couch I felt other things really powerfully and it made me remember things.” I’d be curious to hear what these other things are that he felt at a later date. “But I don’t remember everything. I don’t remember what my real face is, and I don’t remember how this happened. I need you to help me unlock those last memories so I can figure out what made me forget you.” I looked to the door.

“If you’re about to suggest I kiss you again.”

“Absolutely not, I wouldn’t dream of it. I perfectly understand why you’re freaking out. Most people are a little unnerved the first time they see a shifter. I thought you wouldn’t because you’ve obviously heard of us.” That catches me off guard.

“Why would I have heard of you?” He was hiding something else. “And why did you say us?”

He purposefully ignores the first question. “Because there are a lot of us. Well, at least a few anyway. We’re sort of a new thing in human development I guess.”

“I don’t believe you.” I say. “Why haven’t I heard of you? A baby gets born with four arms and it makes international news. Why would someone with an ability to change their appearance, and their mind if what you’re telling me is right, not be on the front page of every news outlet everywhere?”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He opens and closes it again, but again nothing. He scratches his head, looks back at the coffee table in the living room, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Should I go talk to one of these other shifters and they could tell me why something as important as you is being kept a secret?” I ask him.

“Well you could, but I’ve never actually seen one.” Jason says. This is too perfect. If I hadn’t seen his face do the impossible twice, and with my very own eyes, I would’ve already stormed out. I would think I had been drugged, but I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in the last few hours.

“You’ve never seen one? So really you’re just assuming that they exist.” Jason doesn’t know how to take that. He looks like that thought has never occurred to him.

“They absolutely exist. I’ve talked to plenty of other who have met them.” He says, but he’s starting to look like he doesn’t believe what he’s saying.

“Who?” I ask. Again, he can’t think of a response. It’s amazing how many assumptions this man makes. It’s like his whole world is based on lies, and he doesn’t even seem to know it.

“It’s common knowledge isn’t it?” He finally manages to scrounge up. “Like the diet coke and Mentos thing. Or the JFK assassination, it’s just something you know isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “No Jason, it’s not. Jason, I’ve had about a million conversations with other girls about how to make my face look the best. There wasn’t a single one where somebody else mentioned ‘oh by the way, there are these people who can just change their faces at will’. I work in education. I follow new developments in science because I think they are cool. Trust me, something as important as you, I would know about. Everyone would know about you if they could. Have you not noticed that other people tend to react badly when you show them that?” I point to his face. It’s probably rude, but now is not the time to make an effort to be polite. “Were you not just telling me people tend to react poorly? And while we’re talking about showing people, You’ve shown this to other people before right?”

He nods. He’s starting to look like a man standing on a sinking ship. “Why haven’t any of these other people who you’ve shown this to told other people? Things like that get around. I would call every one of my friends right now if I could, and I guarantee you that all of them would tell all of their friends. Eventually someone in the media would find out. Yet you’ve never once spoken to a reporter, or a radio DJ have you?” He shakes his head. “I bet you haven’t so much as spoken to a high school student who wants to do a piece on your for his school newspaper have you?” He’s got his back to a wall now and he’s slowly sinking to the floor. Now he’s the one whose shell shocked. Now he’s the one whose world has just been shaken up and kicked around.

My voice had slowly gotten louder and louder, and I had picked up more and more steam as I had talked it out. I had poured every bit of my pent up confusion and anger into that tirade, and now that it was out I saw what it had done to him. He was crumpled against the floor, a defeated man who had just had the rug pulled out from under him, and I realized I was looking at myself.

I uncrossed my arms and slumped against the wall next to him. I had my best friend torn from me, and he now knew that someone had been robbing him of his identity, had made him forget who he was and what he did. I had my world shaken by discovering people who could change their appearance on a whim. He had his world shaken by discovering that he was the only one. We were in the same situation, he and I. “You know there’s no one else who’s going to understand what we’re going through.” I tell him. “I don’t know how I feel about all of this, but I know that you’re the only one who can work through it with me.” He looks over at me.

“Yeah I know. Sorry for freaking you out earlier.” I shake my head.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that was how that was going to go.” I chuckled at the irony. “I guess this means you’re a nice guy after all.”

He chuckles back. “You know what they say about nice guys right?”

“That they’re wonderful and amazing and always get the girl in the end?” I ask. He cocks his head considering this.

“Yup, that is absolutely what they say about nice guys.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Any new memories?” I joke. His face of defeat comes back and I kick myself. That was not the most appropriate thing to have said just then.

“No, but you did remind me of what I was going to ask before you went on your little speech. I know how to get those last memories back. I know how to figure out who or what is making me forget everything, whose been keeping me a secret all this time.” I pucker up. “I wish, no, it’s going to have to be an even stronger experience. What we have is a fresh affection. It’s new. It’s novel. While it feels strong to us it can’t compare to the bond that two people who have spent years of their lives together can experience, and what it feels like when that bond is broken. That’s why I need your help.” Now he’s lost me. “I’m going to need to tap into an emotional experience of yours.”

“What emotional experience? What are you talking about?” He moves to the wall opposite me and sits back down so we’re facing each other across the hall.

“You asked me to trust you earlier. Now I’m asking you to return the favor. Jennifer, do you trust me?” I consider how absolutely insane the last 24 hours have been. How it’s been serious, silly, world shattering, dynamic bending, craziness, I’ve experienced more firsts, more highs, and more lows with Jason in our brief time together than I’ve experienced in relationships that lasted whole months. It’s mind boggling, surprising, depressing, and thrilling all at the same time.

“I promise this is the last surprise, at least from me.” He says. I look at him. I really take a second to take him in. Is this a man I can trust? Well, one way or the other I was about find out. It was time for one more leap of faith.

“Yes Jason, one more time, I trust you.” He nods, and takes his hand up to his face. When he pulls his hands away, he’s wearing Sarah’s face.

Chapter 5

If I wasn’t sitting down I would’ve collapsed. I clap my hand to my mouth and hear myself breathe in sharply.

“I can’t believe it.” I say. “They told me they found a look-a-like. They had this whole speech about how they found people who looked just like past loved ones, hired professional make-up artists and prosthetic specialists to perfect the resemblance. He even had this demonstration with voice modulators that could replicate anybody’s speech from only a few sound bites.” He’s wearing the same supportive expression as he did that other day. It really was him.

“It was you. I can’t believe it was you.” I bury my face in my hands. I need a moment. Then I remember why he’s doing this. He needs me to access that strong emotion that connected me and Sarah. He needs me to go back to that place where I was yesterday. I need it too. We’re both in this together now, and if we’re going to get out of this I can’t hide from what this is going to make me feel.

I look up, and there Sarah is, just like the day I said goodbye to her before she left for work and never came back.

“You know, I haven’t thought about you since the last meeting. Prince charming here has been sweeping me off my feet so much that I haven’t had time to really think about it.” I feel drained. It’s been a roller coaster of emotions since lunch time. “Which I guess was the point, but I forgot how much I missed you. I would kill to talk to you right now. This is exactly the thing we used to talk about all the time.” Jason is really good at this. His supportive gaze is flawless. There’s no sign of what he’s going through behind that mask he’s wearing.

“Well, not exactly this, we never had some crazy conspiracy theory involving some miraculous new development in human anatomy and medicine. Although there was that one guy who tried to beat the world record for holding your breath underwater on the first date. Thank goodness that lifeguard was paying attention. You know they still won’t let him into that swimming pool?” I really do wish she was here. It’s so difficult doing this without her.

“We laughed so hard about that I skipped my ab workout for the next three days.” I run my hand through my hair. My eyes are starting to sting.

“Yeah, this is exactly the sort of thing I’d like to talk to you about. You know my family doesn’t really help out with this stuff and the two of us always kind of relied on each other to figure out who to trust and who to go to when we needed help. We must’ve bailed each other out of bad dates and shifty situations a dozen times each. You were always the first person on my speed dial.” Now the tears start to come. “You’re still the first person on my speed dial. I don’t know why. I’ve had your number memorized for years, even with contacts and caller ID, I still have your number memorized in case I need to call you.” My voice is cracking, and Sarah, well actually Jason, is still holding that gaze. He’s doing this thing where whenever I say something particularly heavy he reacts a little bit. A softening of the eyes, a twitch of the mouth, a slight inclining of the head, he makes sure I know he’s receiving every word I’m giving.

“There’s still so much of my life that’s tied to you. I think we’re still married on Facebook. I haven’t deleted any of our text messages. I probably never will, I guess because I need that. I don’t want to forget you Sarah. I know this hurts now because you’re gone, but I know that the pain is going to slowly fade with time, and when it heals I’ll still be left with all the good times, the laughs, and the love. I want to still hold onto that Sarah. So I guess for now we’re still going to be married, and I’m going to hold onto as much of you as I can. I know it’s cliché, but I feel like as long as I don’t let you go, you’re still here.” I pause to wipe my face, and get the strands of hair out of my face that have somehow stuck themselves to my nose.

“I said it last time, and I’ll say it again. I’ll remember you Sarah.” I hope that’s all Jason needs, because I don’t have anymore. I’ve reached my emotional limit. I return my face to the sanctuary of my hands and let loose.

Jason comes back over and puts an arm around my shoulder, not saying a word, just pulling me in so that I don’t have to be alone in this. He lets me have my moment, my time to mourn, and doesn’t rush my in anyway.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when I finish, but when I look up the shadows on the walls have lengthened considerably.

“Thank you.” I say, grateful that when I finally look up he’s wearing his own face, the face that I decapitated fruit with. “Not just for right now, but for yesterday too. You let me say goodbye to her, and you knew how rough that was on me. So you prepared the best first date I’ve ever been on to help heal the wounds. Thank you for that.” He kisses me on the forehead and gives me a squeeze.

“You’re welcome Jennifer.” I take a cleansing breath and give myself a shake.

“So do you have something equally as awesome planned for our second date?” He nods his head.

“You gave me what I needed. I remember everything now. I know who did this, and I know what I’m going to do about it. I’m not sure if I’d call it a date, but I’ve found that taking action can be equally as cleansing as laughing your guts out.” He wears a new expression now, a determined expression. “You want to help me bring some scum bags to justice?” I nod my head.

“Good, because we’ve got work to do, I’ve got a list of supplies you need to buy, and I’ve got some research to do. I’ve remembered some things that they really wanted me to forget. You remember how I said I’ve never gotten sick?” I nod. “There was a lot more to that than meets the eyes. I have a…. unique application for shifting.” We’ve got to move quickly. I go to work tomorrow, and it’s going to be a memorable day.”

I’m sitting at my desk, waiting for Marcus to show up for work, when he walks through the door. “Good morning Marcus.” I call to him as he comes through the doors. He waves to me, quickly making his way to his office door.

“Good morning Ryan, I had a late night, so please excuse me while I slip into my office.”

“Like your new coat.” I call to him. He waves again as he slips inside and prepares himself for the day. It looks to be a fairly light day. We don’t have any clients coming in for several hours.

This is a good thing, because a female of interest just popped into view. From the security cam in the elevator I could see Jennifer, the girl who had almost ruined our little operation, pressing the button for our floor.

“Security come to floor 6 immediately.” I call into the radio. “We’ve got Jennifer coming up.” We had sent a team to her apartment last night, but she wasn’t there, and her car was gone. This morning we had sent a team to the school she worked at, but she wasn’t there either, and her supervisors had no idea where she was.

Apparently she needed some resolution from Jason. We would give her some resolution, but not the kind she wanted. I checked the feeds to Marcus’s office to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. He had a hat pulled down over his face and appeared to be taking a nap. It was unprofessional of him, so it was a good thing this wasn’t a real job.

The bell for the elevator sounded, and our security was right in place. As soon as she stepped out two large men pinned her to the ground, and two more gagged and bound her.

“Interrogation room.” I said. “Make it quick, and get somebody down here to cover for me in case Jason comes out. The interrogation room was right next to Marcus’ room. We put the same soundproofing on it as we did his room. You could set off a hand grenade inside and no one would hear a thing.

They forced her inside and pushed her into a chair. I closed the door tightly to insure nobody who walked in would hear a thing, and rounded on the girl who had almost cost us billions.

“You just had to come back and see him again didn’t you?” I ask, rolling up my sleeves. “You couldn’t let prince charming go. You had to come back one last time to say goodbye.” I un-holster my sidearm and set it down on the table beside her, just inside her peripheral vision. The gun is a small thing that I keep hidden for special occasions.

“Now, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to tell us everything you know about Marcus. The man you knew as Jason, and then you’re going to tell us everyone else who knows about him. And if you’re really good, we’ll let you live.” Her death wasn’t strictly speaking necessary. The memory serum we had concocted from Marcus’s blood would wipe her memory without killing her. She was an asset we could control, but we needed to know how far things went. I might dispose of her anyway, just because of all the trouble she caused, but I would decide that once this was over. Covering up a disappeared person was difficult, but for the right occasion, it could be arranged.

We were going to have to cut down on Marcus’ social life. This was the second person we had to interrogate this week. The grocery store had been a slip up we could’ve easily avoided too. Perhaps we could tell Marcus that the company now had a plan to provide grocery delivery. Maybe a grateful client could offer this service at a discount. We would think of something, but we had to minimize that kid’s social time.

“What are you guys talking about? Why are you doing this?” She asks, looking around terrified at all the guns in the room. Security had brought out the large assault rifles to make an impression.

“Don’t play innocent, you really expect me to fall for that? You honestly think I would believe Marcus didn’t show you his trick to impress you on your little date?” I for one couldn’t believe that such a useful talent would not be utilized to impress any potential women in his life.

“What special talent? Are you talking about his accents? I know he’s really good at that.” She’s eyeing the pistol sitting next to her head. “Who are you guys? Are you with the government? Why are you doing this to me?” She was good, and if she hadn’t been missing from work completely unannounced I might believe her, but her story had an odor to it.

“Why weren’t you at your house yesterday? Why didn’t you show up to work this morning? Were you trying to contact Marcus?”

“What, whose Marcus?” Now she had slipped up. I had told her earlier in this conversation who Marcus was. She knew something, and she wasn’t letting on.

“Look me in the eye Jennifer.” I lean in close so I can see if her pupil’s dilate. “If you really have nothing to hide than you won’t have any difficulty with what I’m about to do.”

I pick up the gun and point it at her right hand, the little finger of her right hand.

“If I get even the slightest sense that you’re lying to me, you’ll be out of a finger. The people I work for have a lot of money, and something of an expertise in biology. We will have no trouble covering up any spontaneous acts of violence that might be about to ensue.” I chamber a bullet in the gun. “We’ve spent years doing research on Marcus and we have learned quite a bit. Now then, have you ever heard of shifters?” Jennifer’s expression suddenly turns from terror to smug confidence.

“So that’s it.” She says. “You work for some big corporation that’s doing research on Marcus. You’re trying to keep it quiet so nobody else can compete with you.” She had just earned her right to be one of those lucky few worthy of becoming a missing person. I pointed the gun at her head and fired twice.

Her head cocked back backwards over the chair and I started to think about what method of disposal would be the best, when Jennifer’s head tilted forwards again. The two bullets are sticking out of her head like horns. They’ve barely penetrated the skin.

“Haven’t I always told you it’s not the face that matters. It’s what’s underneath that counts.”

“Shoot him!” Ryan called out. All four guards were happy to oblige, opening up with their thirty round magazines and on full auto, and not letting up until every round had been fired. I weathered the hail of bullets without flinching, staring directly at Ryan as he also emptied the remaining six bullets in his clip.

When they were finished, and it didn’t take long, I stood. I grew six inches taller, my hair shortened, and my face morphed into Jason’s.

They couldn’t do anything but watch. None of them had thought to bring spare ammunition. They hadn’t even known they were going to shoot me.

I shook myself and 128 bullets fell to the ground. Most of the bullets don’t even have blood on them.

“You never seemed to be a fast learner Ryan.” I said. One of his henchmen took some initiative. He drew a knife and tried to stab me in the arm. It stuck in less than a centimeter. I looked at his knife, and then at him.

“That’s adorable.” I say, before grabbing his wrist, twisting it ninety degrees to slam him into the table, and then breaking the knife off at the hilt. It’s amazing what a little pressure applied the right way could do.

“You seem to underestimate me a lot too.” He was doing it right now. If the man had any sense he would’ve started running the second he realized I had survived a double tap to the head.

“Rush him!” Ryan shouted, stepping back to let the three remaining guards jump at me. It’s a pathetic attempt. I throw the hilt of the broken off knife at one of the guards, knocking him out, morphing my wrist allows me to put an inhuman amount of spin on the blade. As the second of four guards falls, I apply a chokehold to the third, and stare down the fourth as he tries to dislodge his friend from my grasp.

When the guards slumps unconscious in my arms I just stare at this friend. He tries punching me out a few times, but succeeds only in damaging his fist.

Once he’s hurt his hand to the point where he can’t throw any more punches I point to a chair.

“Sit.” I command, and the guard doesn’t even look to Ryan for confirmation before sitting down.

“Now then.” I say, turning to address Ryan, who has still defied all reason by not fleeing for his life. “Your guards are disabled. This room is soundproof so you can’t call for help. If you try to use your radio I’ll break it, and I’m sure by now you’ve figured out if you try to leave this room I won’t let you. So, what options do you have left?” Ryan checks his radio and glances at the door. I’m somewhat disappointed he doesn’t at least try to see if I can stop him, but I guess he just lacks either the courage or the initiative.

“You know we have a lot of money.” He says.

“Bribery, that’s quaint. I’m honestly insulted that you think a little cash is going to prevent any of this from getting out. Did you forget you tried to shoot me a few seconds ago?”

“I wasn’t trying to shoot you. I was trying to shoot Jennifer.” I almost laugh at how absurd his defense is.

“And you think that makes it better?” I ask.

“How much have I done wrong to you Jason?” Ryan asks. “You’ve started to remember a lot clearly, how far back does it go?” He can’t leave the room so he walks over to the table, and picks up the broken blade of the knife.

“Do you remember what we used to do with these?” He looks at the blade, watching the sunlight glint off of it. “Do you remember how we used to take bets on how much force you could take before we could break your skin? I’m impressed you remembered how to do it.” I don’t have to hold back. I could just take him out right here, right now. I do remember what he’s talking about. It’s a memory that I’d erase if I could.

“I remember when we first discovered that you could harden your skin like that. Of course that was after we learned to modify your memory, or else I wouldn’t have dreamed of disciplining you that hard, but thankfully you didn’t remember. You didn’t even have any scars on your smiling face when you came into work that day.” My anger is boiling again. I can feel myself begin to reflexively imagine those floating spheres. Those spheres he had used to channel my anger into my memory and forget.

“We found that you were not so resilient to fire. Which was unfortunate, we’ve been having such luck manufacturing isolates from your skin as body armor. We had hoped to sell other isolates as fire retardents, but alas, it was not meant to be. I still kept the photos though. The burn patterns were most intriguing.” I can see the spheres now. Like a beaten dog I’m forced into the pattern I’ve been through so many times.

“You’re starting to feel yourself fade aren’t you Jason. And the beauty of it is you can’t help it. You have been our slave for so long that you don’t know how to be free, and it’s your own anger that’s to blame. If you just kept it under lock and key we wouldn’t have been able to do any of this to you.”

“Good thing there are emotions stronger than hate.” Jennifer says. Ryan spins on his heel. He was so focused on me he didn’t notice Jennifer enter the room. His mouth drops open in shock, and Jennifer shoves a gas grenade in it and pulls the trigger. She pins his arms behind his back as the thing goes off, and he faints.

“Coward, didn’t even have enough guts to get knocked out by the gas.” She says through her gas mask. “Don’t go anywhere.” She orders the remaining soldier. “We wouldn’t want to insult you be leaving you conscious.” I give the soldier a nod, and we step out.

“Freeze!” A guard shouted as soon as we stepped out of the room. I threw myself between the six guards who had appeared, and Jennifer. I grabbed her has mask off her head and threw it at the nearest guard. That was enough to provoke them.

Again, I felt the sting of over a hundred rifle rounds striking me, and then falling to the floor. Again I shook myself while the guards checked their weapons to insure they were working. One burned his finger when he touched his barrel to see if it was warm.

“Boo.” I said, and the guards scattered like flies. Some ran upstairs. Some fled down, Some just dashed into whatever room was nearby.

“Anymore coming?” I asked Jennifer. She had run through the security camera feeds before she had stepped inside.

“No, that was the last of them. I already placed a call into 911 as well. The police should be here shortly.” She said.

“So that’s it then.” I surmise, sliding into Ryan’s former seat. Jennifer perched herself on the desk.

“Yeah, looks like. You aren’t worried about the police at all? I’m sure there’s a decent amount of what we’re doing that’s illegal.” I shrug.

“Maybe, but I know I’ve got a pretty clear case of self-defense.” I point to my chest and forehead. “They did shoot me quite a bit.”

“I think I’ve got a good case for self-defense too.” Jennifer says. “When the guy who was sitting at Ryan’s desk got spooked by all the commotion you were causing, he came into your office with a gun. It wasn’t a problem since I had already set off the first knockout gas grenade and was hiding behind your desk so he couldn’t shoot me, but yeah, I think it’s pretty clearly self-defense. I’m slightly worried about what I did to Ryan, but when they review the tapes I think they’ll come down on my side.”

“Did you get a chance to look at the archived tapes?” I ask.

“Yes, I didn’t get a chance to check very thoroughly, but there are records that stretch back for years. These guys weren’t terribly worried about getting caught it seems. And if I could get access to them I’m sure the cops will.”

She kicks her legs absently against the desk while we wait for the police to show up. We had considered trying to purge the record of what we had done here. Maybe steal some kind of evidence and try to take down the corporation from the outside, but we had to be real. Neither of us had any kind of experience in that sort of thing. If we hadn’t used my morphing skills to aerosolize an anesthetic capable of rapidly knocking out grown adults then we would’ve been in real trouble.

Even with my abilities this would probably only work once. There were ways around toughened skin and improvised chemical agents.

No, we had decided it would be best to let the authorities handle this. Besides, neither of us was confident we could erase any record of our involvement, especially with all of the witnesses.

“You mind taking this thing off?” Jennifer asked.

“Right, sorry.” I say, reaching over and touching Jennifer’s leg. When I make contact all of the skin that had disguised her as me slid back onto my body. It was trick we had picked up when I had kissed her good night. With some high heels and bulky clothes I could lend others a cloak of sorts for a time. It wasn’t nearly as good as what I could do to myself, but as long as people didn’t look too close, it would do.

We can now hear sirens. The police are getting close.

“We’re both crazy. You know that right?” Jennifer asks.

I nod. “Undeniably, this was hair brained and poorly executed from the start. We only guessed at my being able to stop bullets because you couldn’t remember if they tested that. We weren’t sure about the videos providing enough evidence to convict these guys of what they’ve done to me, and we definitely didn’t know what they had in store for security. We’re lucky it was just assault rifles and knives. I wasn’t sure if I could take anything stronger.”

“I don’t mean that.” Jennifer said. “Although that’s certainly true, I mean us. There’s no way you should’ve put all that effort into me. It’s amazing how much you could put yourself aside and be there for me.”

“And it’s almost frightening how hard you fought to bring back my memory.” I add. “Some people go their whole lives not knowing if someone would be able to be with them through a time like that, and you did it after only one date.”

“So we’re in agreement. We’re both crazy.” Jennifer says.

“But as long as we’re crazy together. I think we’ll be alright.” I say.

Jennifer laughs. “I don’t think you have to worry about us being separated any time soon. I’m dating a guy who can stare down an assault rifle, and also happens to be the biggest discovery in modern medicine since penicillin.”

“And I’m dating an implausibly loyal girl who stood by me when she literally thought I was crazy.” I stand up and sit next to her on the desk. “By the way, there was something I wanted to show you. You know that face I wore on our first date? The one I’m wearing now?” Jessica nods. “It’s not my real face. I finally remembered what I’m supposed to look like.” I waved my hand in front of my face to transition into my real face.

“Well, what do you think?” I ask. Jennifer is staring open mouthed at me. “Come on now, I don’t know what girls like in terms of faces. Do you like it?” She’s not saying anything. “I can change back if you want. I’m not super emotionally attached to it.” For an answer, Jennifer leans forward, as if hypnotized, and kisses me.

“Don’t change a thing.” She whispers.

We hear boots coming up the stairs. Jennifer snaps out of her trance and hops off the desk. We both lay down on the ground with our hands behind our heads.

“You ready for this?” I ask.

“Please.” Jennifer says. “You’re not getting out of our next date that easy.” Right as the SWAT team bursts down the door, she gives me another peck on the cheek. In the same spot she always does.

Epilogue

It was a rough ride, at least at first. It’s not easy being in a relationship with a medical miracle. He would get called away all the time on every kind of strange operation or mission you could imagine.

Some missions were medical. His cells had remarkable qualities and he could use them to fight some otherwise incurable diseases. The CDC would call him if there was some outbreak of a new and deadly disease they wanted quelled. And periodically he would go to a local children’s hospital and cure everyone in the oncology ward. It wasn’t something he could do very often. He explained to me that an expenditure of that kind of energy needed time to recharge, but he still managed to make it down there at least once a month.

Other missions were political. Various government agencies would consult with him and get him to provide perfect disguises for their operatives on special highly sensitive missions. He would always demand a full debriefing of what was going on and why. There were more than a few missions where he walked because he didn’t agree with what was going on, but he was still a part of bringing to justice six of the world’s top ten criminals.

Lastly, some missions were purely sentimental. After the corporation that tried to hide him was taken down he started up a new one that did exactly what the old one claimed to do. Brought people in who needed to say goodbye, and gave them a chance to make their peace.

He had a lot of demands on his time, but he said he couldn’t do half of it without me. I’ve read through thousands of classified documents while he was off at children’s hospitals, so he could go straight to a black op from work.

I debriefed him on the intricate biochemistry of novel viruses so he could better target his treatments. Not that I knew biochemistry, but I learned.

To this day I still sit up with him and hear all the stories about the people he’s helped heal, both the good and the bad. If you ask him, he will say that it’s his favorite thing that I do for him.

But my favorite thing that he’s done for me, was at our wedding he became Sarah one last time, so she could give an embarrassing speech.

the face of romance part 4

I can’t believe I met such a great guy out of the blue like this. These blind date things never seemed to work out. Yet, here I was, swapping cheesy jokes with a multi-talented guy in a medical field. What more could I ask for? As soon as I left the school I worked at I whipped out my phone. I smile when I see the picture of him soaked in diet coke that’s now my background, and started texting.

Jennifer- Hey cutie, wanted to let you know I’m planning on buying a few paintball grendades. Better pray we’re on the same team :).

Jason– Sounds like fun, hey, my phone recently had a glitch, remind me who this is again?

Jennifer– That stinks, deleted all your contacts huh? Well this is Jennifer.

Jason– I don’t know any Jennifers. I think you have the wrong number, sorry :(.

Jennifer– That’s funny, anyway, I know we agreed to rent markers there, but I couldn’t help but give myself an advantage :).

Jason– It sounds like a lot of fun, but I really don’t know any Jennifers. Enjoy the paintball!

Jennifer– Jason this joke is starting to get a little old.

Jason– It’s no joke. As much as I love paintball I really don’t know any Jennifers.

Jennifer– Okay Jason’s friend, you’ve had your laugh, now hand the phone to Jason I’d like to talk to him now.

Jason– Ah, okay, you definitely have the wrong number. This is Marcus.

Jennifer– What? No, I can see our text conversation from the rest of the day. We were just swapping cheesy jokes.

Jason– The first text I have from you is the one about paintball grenades.

Jennifer-That’s not right, look, I can forward you the other texts. I promise you we’ve been talking all day.

Jason– That really wouldn’t prove anything, and talking all day? That doesn’t sound like me.

Jennifer– Jason, you’re starting to worry me. Are you okay? Are you in the hospital?

Jason– I’m fine, just got back from work actually. Are you okay? You seem to have a very strong memory of something that never happened.

Had I fallen for a guy with some serious mental disorder? This had gone on far too long for it to be a joke, and Jason didn’t seem the type that would play such a mean spirited trick.

Should I just end the conversation now? I don’t know if I could be with somebody who just forgot everything once every few days. Clearly he doesn’t remember me so if I just stop right now it’s not like his feelings would get hurt.

I think about it. I think about just pressing delete on your conversation and removing him from my contacts. He asked me what my name was so it’s obvious he already deleted me from his contacts.

Thinking that thought hurts, and it moves me to hit delete. If I mean so little to him that he’d just delete me from his contacts then I should do the same to him. I’m not going to be toyed with like that.

I put my thumb over the delete button.

“It was fun while it lasted Jason.” I say in memory of our wonderful date.

Then, right before I erase our conversation a thought occurs to me. ‘If he has a mental disorder, why would he delete me from his contacts?’

Jennifer– Jason, you said your phone had a glitch? Are any of your other contacts deleted?

Jason– No, everything else is here. Photos, contacts, conversations, listen, I really have to go.

Something else is going on. There’s no way he loses all memory of me and has me, and only me, completely erased from his phone. Something very wrong is going on.

Jennifer– No, Jason, I’m sorry you don’t believe me, but I think you might be in danger. I’m calling you now, please pick up, just one conversation, and if you don’t believe me I’ll leave you alone. Just please pick up, just this once Jason.

I give him a little time to read the text, and then I press call.

The phone rings once.

‘I’ve got to think of something to convince him. Something that most people wouldn’t know about him.’

The phone rings twice.

‘Would blowing up watermelons be enough? Do lots of people do that?’

The phone rings three times.

‘Maybe it’s a new fad, gotta try something else. Something more personal.’

The phone rings four times.

‘Pick it up Jason, please pick it up. Something personal, what about his superpower. Empathy was it?’

The phone rings five times.

‘It’s going to go to voice mail soon. No, empathy isn’t deep enough. I’ve got to go more personal than that.’

“Hello? Is this Jennifer?” I feel lighter when he says my name, but I can’t let my emotions overpower me right now.

“You have a deep seated need to help people. It’s the driving force behind what you do. Healing, in particular you want to heal, but not the body, although that’s important. You want to heal the mind. You want to reach inside people, take the negative, and mold it into something positive. You’re a mind healer Jason.” I try and think of some old prayer from grade school to recite while I wait for his response. It was a shot in the dark, but it was all I had.

“Jennifer right?” Jason says.

“That’s right.” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Well Jennifer, you have my attention. I don’t know how you knew me well enough to rephrase my personal motto ‘it’s what’s underneath that matters’, but I want to find out.” He tells me his address. “Meet me as soon as you can.”

“I will.” I say, as soon as he had started giving me his address I had grabbed my keys and my shoes, and was already halfway out the door. “I’m coming Jason.” I hang up the phone and sprint to my car.

It took a lot of restraint not to speed and blow through red lights, but getting pulled over wasn’t going to get me to Jason any quicker.

He was waiting on his doorstep when I arrived. I was impressed that he lived in his own townhouse at his age, but I didn’t have time to admire his neat little garden or his well kept car. I had a mission.

I reflexively run to hug him, but he catches me by the shoulders and holds me at an arm’s length. It’s nice to feel his touch again. I can still feel a ghost of his finger where he brushed the drop of watermelon juice from my face.

“I know that there’s something big going on here, but this is all a little fast and I’m going to need to take this one step at a time. I don’t know what to think or feel about this, and until I do we’re going to have to keep this professional.” I nod. It’s not what I want, but if it’s what he needs then I can give it to him. He gestures to the spot next to him on the porch and we both sit down.

“First things first.” He says. “How did you know all that about me?”

“Because we went on a date.” I say. He nods. It was pretty obvious I thought we were dating from the messages, and from me going straight for the hug. This is just confirming suspicions for him.

“When did we go on this date?” He asks.

“Last night, it started a bit before sundown, and you took a phone call halfway through, which is fine, and we finished a little after sundown. It was a very short and sweet date.” It warms me up thinking about it.

“Last night? I don’t have any memory of that.” He says, looking out at the grass on his lawn.

“Do you have any memory at all of last night?” I ask, concerned about how deep this problem goes in him. He doesn’t answer right away. There’s confusion on his face. It’s like he’s trying to find the missing piece to the puzzle.

“I remember some old Disney shows right before I went to bed, and I remember scaring a lady at the store.” That surprises me, but I try not to show it. Why on earth had he scared a lady at the store? I would have to ask him later. Maybe he spilled some of that diet coke and Mentos during the checkout. It was probably something innocent like that.

“But those two events are separated by almost two hours. Which isn’t that weird. It’s not like I keep a running log of my day, but I’m remembering quite a bit about buying some snacks, and I can’t think of what I did with them.” He stands up.

“Yes, I’m remembering buying a watermelon, a lot of rubber bands, some diet coke, and a few breath freshening strips. It’s for a few games I like.” He explains to me.

“I know, diet coke and Mentos roulette along with exploding watermelon hot potato.” He nods.

“Right, sure, for our date that I don’t remember.” He takes his keys out of his pocket. “And if we had that date then I would’ve used all the supplies, and there should be nothing left in my house.” He unlocks his door and I follow him inside.

We move silently to his pantry as he opens cupboard after cupboard. There are no supplies in any of them. He checks the basement, his office, the living room. He walks through every room in his house, and finds nothing.

After completing his search he sits down on the couch in his living room and stares unblinkingly at the coffee table. I sit quietly next to him. I want to put a hand on his shoulder or something to help him through this, but I know it would only confuse him.

“Assuming we have been dating, how long has it been going on?” He asks.

“We were going to have our second date this weekend. It was going to be paintball.” This also surprises him.

“I blew up watermelons with you on the first date? You must be special.” I hide a smile. I can tell he still doesn’t completely believe me. The facts are there, but the totally absent memory is something that’s hard for him to justify. It’s hard for me to justify too, but we’ll figure out why it’s missing later. Right now all I want is for him to remember what we had shared the previous evening. What I wanted to share again this coming weekend.

He’s still staring at the table. He needs something else. He’s on the tipping point, but there’s still something missing from the puzzle. I wanted to give him whatever it was, but I was out of ideas. I had nothing else to remind him of what happened. Jason was going to have to meet me halfway.

“Did we kiss?” He asks.

“No, well not really, but it wasn’t that I didn’t like you. It’s just that I don’t kiss on the first date. I know it’s kind of old fashioned but it’s helped me avoid getting attached to a lot of guys that I shouldn’t get attached to. Not that you’re a guy I’d avoid getting attached to. It’s just it’s hard to know after the first date you know? I totally would’ve if I had known this was going to happen.” The last part slips out without me thinking about it and I clap a hand over my mouth. My face feels warm as it begins turning the color of the inside of a watermelon.

I can’t believe I said that. Right when he needs facts and unbiased information I blurt out this monologue about how I don’t kiss on the first date and end it by admitting I wanted to kiss him. I couldn’t believe myself.

Jason, still staring at the coffee table, rubs his hand on his chin, considering what I’ve just told him.

“This may sound a bit weird, but I’m going to need you to kiss me on the cheek.”

My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t mentioned that I kissed him on the cheek.

“Of course.” I say, wishing to kiss more than his lips.

He’s still staring at the table, trying to pull in the memory of yesterday. It makes it awkward, him not even trying to look at me while I lean in, but I don’t really have much choice in the matter. I can’t ask him to make it romantic at all if he’s not even sure we’re an item. I’m not using to giving kisses as a memory aid, but I do it anyway.

Just like last night I lean in and gently brush my lips against his cheekbone, making sure to place them in the same spot I did last night, and slowly kiss his cheek.

He reels back like I’ve just shocked him. He’s looking at me like I’m some lion that’s escaped and might decide to eat him at any moment. It hurts to have him look at me like that, but I stay calm for him.

He reaches out with his right hand. I watch it draw nearer, fearful of what he might do, but I don’t move. His fingers draw near to my face, and he caresses the side of it, in the same spot where he caressed it last night.

“It blew up while you were holding it didn’t it?” He asked.

I bounce on the couch with excitement. “You remember!” I shout.

“Not much.” He says. “It’s still very blocky. I can only remember small scenes, almost like screen shots, but it’s something.”

“What do you remember?” I ask.

“I remember blasting myself with the bottle of diet coke. I remember the watermelon exploding. And the way you were getting so scared about putting on more rubber bands.” He smiles again when he talks about the rubber bands. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile today and it sort of makes this whole ordeal worthwhile. The way he’s pulling at my heart strings, the worry that something was, or is, happening to him, the rushed drive over here. Even the sitting on this couch right now unsure of what’s going to happen next, it’s all worth it to see him smile.

“Man you squealed when we started going over 400.” He touches his cheek now, and he’s still smiling, but it’s different somehow. I like his smile right now better than I did before. I’m not sure why I like it more, but I do. “And your kiss.” That’s why I like it more, because the smile was about me. I was making him smile.

“And what else?” I prod him. Now the smile fades.

“That’s all.” He glances back at the coffee table, like it could give him the answers he was looking for. “I don’t remember how it ends, so there must be more to that memory, but that’s all I have.”

“You don’t remember anything about the phone call?” I ask. “You don’t remember anything about what you asked me or what I asked you? And you don’t remember anything from today about organizing our second date?” He looks guilty, like a chastised child.

“I’m sorry. Like I said, I know there’s more, but I just can’t remember it.” My stomach drops, now I really am out of ideas. Well, not completely, there is one more thing I can try.

“Do you trust me?” I ask him, knowing that what I’m about to do might cause more harm than good.

He finally turns and looks me up and down, considering my question. His eyes move to the spot on my face he’d been caressing just moments before, and his hand moves to the spot on his cheek where I had kissed him.

“Yes.” He says. “Yes I do.”

I move quickly so my courage doesn’t fade. I lunge across the couch and knock him down, positioning myself above him, and before he can protest I slam my lips into his.

My lips finally meet his, and I wrap my arms around, leaning into him as I firmly press my lips into his. My breath catches and I inhale sharply as he returns my embrace. Reaching up with one hand to grab the back of my head at the spot just above the neck, and wrapping his other arm around me in a fierce embrace.

It all goes so quickly and before I know it I’m pulling back, breathing faster than before, and looking him up and down to make sure he’s okay.

I should say that I tried to pull back, he stills has his hands on me and he stops me from pulling away more than a few inches. His hand on my head caresses my check again and he says.

“My loyal mare, you came back.” I swoop back down for round two.

“Yes.” I say between our squished lips. “But don’t call me a horse again.”

“K.” He replies, and it’s a discrete period before either of us says anything else.

When we do manage to disconnect from each other there’s a significant lag while both of our brains speed back up from romantic slow motion time, to real life time. My brain speeds up first, which is understandable. He’s just had a rush of memory that no doubt added to the experience.

The first thing I notice is that of all expressions, the one he has chosen to wear is concern. He doesn’t look joyful, or overwhelmed with emotion. He just looks concerned.

“Are you okay?” I ask. He must’ve realized the expression his face had taken, and quickly flipped back to happiness.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, and I remember so much. It’s just a lot you know?”

“So you remember everything?” I ask.

“Almost.” He says.

“Well that’ll have to do, because I want to know why your face looks just like some other dude’s I met the other day. Do you two know each other? His name is Ryan I think.”

Face of romance part 3

No sooner do I hang up the phone then Jennifer calls.

“Do you live like three feet from here or something?” I ask sarcastically.

“I’m actually in my car right now. How’s the clean up going? Did your work thing get sorted out?” She inquires. This day just won’t quit. When I get home I’m going to have a long hot shower, watch a couple reruns of some old Disney shows while eating microwave pizza, and then I’m going straight to bed.

“Uh, pretty good, I’m already done. The work thing wrapped up and I was planning on driving home soon, but I have a manual transmission and my speaker phone is terrible so I can’t exactly talk and drive at the same time if you know what I mean.” I’m not trying to blow her off, but this is kind of weird.

“Oh I know. So how about we play a game?” I glance up at the sky.

“You know it’s going to be dark soon right?” I ask. Did I press a ‘everything is going to be unexpected and crazy’ button when I woke up.

“Sure do, give it twenty minutes until full dark. No need to worry though. I’m nice and safe in my well lit and locked car.” It’s a good thing the crime rate is super low around here. Worst comes to worst I can always just find a piece of that watermelon to throw at anybody who tries to attack me.

“Alright, let’s play. You know this is weird right?” On the one hand this is kind of cute. On the other hand this is genuinely odd behavior that I’m not 100% sure how I feel about.

“You know what else is weird? Making someone blow up a watermelon using the elastic tension in rubber bands. Then making them open a couple bottles of coke and Mentos before whisking them away after you’ve only been talking for tops thirty minutes.” She had a point. I guess she was just returning the favor. I lean back on the park bench. It was probably unrealistic to make someone to do a bunch of extremely unorthodox stuff without expecting some sort of retaliation.

“Fair enough, let’s keep this pretty quick though yeah? I’ve got to be in to work early tomorrow and I still need to get home and unwind.”

“Sounds reasonable to me. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, just enough so that you feel the same fish out of water vibe that I’m feeling right now.” She was being understanding and cognizant of my time. That calmed my apprehension about making the phone call so quick.

“So how does this game work?” I ask.

“Well, it’s pretty straight forward. I ask you a question. Then you ask me a question. You can’t repeat questions, and you have to answer honestly. We already did the fun part of the date, and almost entirely skipped the getting to know you bit. So I thought this would be a good way to wrap up the evening.” It was a very straight forward game, but it also sounded like the perfect conclusion to our date.

“Good this sounds to me. Fun it should be.” I say in a perfect Yoda impression. Being able to physically morph your vocal chords, and the rest of your respiratory tract, makes it super easy to do spot on impressions every time.

“That was so good! Where did you learn to do that?” She asks.

“Stick around, and you’ll see how deep the rabbit hole goes.” I say, this time going for Lawrence Fishbourne as Morpheus. “Does that count as your first question?”

“No, no, that was uh. We hadn’t started yet, clearly.” I’m delighted that my surprise rapid fire funny voices are having a flustering effect on her. “No, uh, no, my first question is, uh, if you had a superpower what would it be? Besides doing silly voices I mean.” The increase in pitch in her voice tells me she’s having a good time.

Going for a deep growling batman I respond. “I always thought cheesecake summoning was pretty cool.”

She’ laughing out loud on the other end. “You should totally get a job doing this. But cheesecake? Seriously? You’re not going to go for flight or anything?”

“In all seriousness I’d like to go for mind reading.” I’ve decided to mix it up and use my normal voice. “I’m pretty good at reading people, but I don’t like how any empathy I feel is incomplete. I can only guess at how someone is feeling and I really just want to like copy and paste their emotional state on my own so I can really understand what they’re going through.”

“That sounds more like empathy than mind reading.” She comments. “But that’s really cool. I like the spin you put on it. That’s honestly one of the more thoughtful answers I’ve gotten to that question.”

“My turn now right?” I ask, still using my boring old regular voice.

“Yeah totally, fire away.”

“You’ve got to ask yourself one question.” I say, going for dirty harry. “If you had to be dropped onto a desert island with one person, who would it be?” The sound of her giggling is music to my ears.

“That’s a tough one, but I think I’d have to go with my dad.” She says. “I know like the president would be really cool, or a survivalist would be really useful, but honestly. If I’m going to stuck somewhere and I don’t know if or when I’ll ever get out. I want my dad with me. He’s just always been there for me, and my mom is great and all, but if it’s a life and death kind of thing, there really isn’t anyone I trust more than my dad.” I mentally gave her a whole bunch of bonus points. They say you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat waiters and waitresses. I think the same is true for parents. Your mother and father are two people who basically have to put up with you no matter what. So how you feel about them can tell you a lot about how they’re going to feel about you once the honeymoon phase is over. Deciding to take the most important man in your life on a scary vacation instead of any other guy, even when other guys were more capable than him, was a definite good thing in my mind.

“I respect.” I say in my unaccented voice. “I think it’s important that you have strong relationships with your parents.”

“Well, they kind of raised me you know? They’ve seen me at my worst. If I’m going to be stuck somewhere desolate I want somebody who really cares for me like that.” Very cool, that was very cool of her. “So my turn, I think we will do one last question each and then I’ll let you go. I know it’s really starting to get dark and I don’t actually want you out and about without any light.”

“I appreciate that.” I don’t even have to look at the sky to tell that it’s sundown. The light’s already starting to fade, and before too much longer I was going to have to use my phone as a flashlight to find my way back to my car.

“So last question then, if you could have any kind of horse, what would it be?” That was certainly random. No more random than anything else had been this day, but still random.

I pop into a southern accent for this one. “I reckon just a regular old mare. Nothing fancy, just reliable and loyal, she just needs ta be there when I call and get me safely through the journey. Y’all talk about racing thoroughbreds or warhorses, and that’s all well and good, but for me, just a steady companion is all I need.” There’s a noise from the other side of the line, it sounds faintly like ‘awww’, but I can’t be sure.

It’s only after I answer this question that I realize I’ve heard it before. It was one of those ‘figure out your future’ kind of questions. You asked them about how you’d climb on boxes or use ladders or something, and at the end of it they’d tell you some blurb about how you’d succeed in life. I never put much stock in them, but I remembered this question was about your future spouse. Supposedly the way you answered this question reflected how you thought about your hypothetical future lifemate. If you answered something outlandish like a unicorn, people knew you had unrealistic expectations. I didn’t think there was much truth to it, but I think I had just knocked it out of the park with my answer.

“Alright, now you ask me one.” She said. It’s getting dark enough to the point where you’d have trouble reading a book, so I try and make it quick. I say the first thing that pops into my mind, and unintentionally ask something that’s a little too close to home.

“How do you feel about dating coworkers?”

“Are you trying to tell me something? Lol, um, I think it’s something to be frowned on. I mean, I’ve dated classmates before and even that gets awkward. It’s fine in theory I guess, but it’s just not something that works out in real life. I see that ending badly most of the time.” Well, I made her feel bad earlier with all that talk about work. It was only fair I made myself feel bad. Some part of me was glad that she had that attitude, it would certainly serve her well in her career, but it was going to make it so much harder when I had to tell her I was the shifter she had visited earlier.

“That’s the sensible approach.” I say. “It might be something to try once, but definitely not anything to make a habit out of.” I’m trying to get her to back off her stance a little bit.

“I don’t think even once, but yeah, not something you want to mess around with.” So much for getting her to back off a bit. Talk about when you’re in a hole stop digging.

“Hey, I want to respect your time. It’s now full dark and I know you’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’ll let you go now. Thanks for a wonderful time, and thanks for putting up with my phone call.”

“It was my pleasure. I’ll text you tomorrow with plans for our next date.”

“I look forward to it, have a good night.”

“You too princess.” And then the conversation was done.

I slipped my phone. Think for a moment, then take it out and turn it off. I don’t care if somebody else has something they just have to tell me tonight. I’m going to bed.

The next morning I trudge into work with a sense of apprehension. I know Ryan is going to say something to me, and I’m not going to like it.

My fears are magnified when I step out of the stair well and see that Ryan is talking to someone I don’t recognize at his desk, and it’s not a griever.

The two glance up at me when I walk in. A few whispers are exchanged, and then the strange man departs. I can’t know this for certain, but my gut tells me that was some high level supervisor who somehow knew about my unprofessional foray with a patient last night.

“Hey Jason.” Ryan says. “Why don’t we step into your office for a quick chat okay?”

“Sure thing Ryan.” I say, and when we’re both inside I close the door behind me.

“Nice face by the way.” He says.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Your face, normally you just wear somebody’s from the office. Now you’ve got this new face on. Where did you get it?” I had completely forgotten that the face I was wearing was not my own. Which was somewhat a good thing. I had internalized this new facial structure to the point where it was my natural resting face. It was a bit like learning a new way of folding your hands, and then folding your hands that way often enough so that it became a habit.

“Internet.” I say. “But that’s not why you called me in here is it?” Ryan sat on the edge of my desk.

“No, no it’s not. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m really not comfortable with you seeing this girl. Are you sure there’s going to be a second date?” He really was serious about this.

“For sure, she called me back and I’m going to be texting her about the next time we’re going on a date during my lunch break.” I began to wonder if Ryan had a bad experience with this sort of thing in the past. His concern was clearly starting to become excessive.

“That’s unfortunate. Have you thought about breaking it off man? I mean it’s not just that you’re sort of working together.” That was flat out not true. In all probability I would never work with this girl in a professional capacity again. I folded my arms and found a wall to lean against. “You’re like a therapist, or a priest or something. There’s this emotional bond

“No, no I haven’t. I actually kind of like her and am optimistic about how far this could go. I’m not going to break it off just because you’re a little apprehensive about this. I’m sorry man, but it’s not like I’m a therapist or a priest, and it’s definitely not like I’m a doctor. All three of those people see their patients on a regular basis. Also, and most importantly, none of those people are shifters. She didn’t really talk to me. She talked to her friend who I happened to look just like at the moment. The worst thing about this is really just that I know some personal stuff about her that she might not be comfortable with me knowing.” Ryan drummed his fingers against the desk when I had finished my little speech.

“So you think you’re going to see this girl again?” He asked, once again, discrediting my dating skills.

“Yes, I ‘think’, I’m going to see her again.” Using air quotes around the word think.

“Well you’re going to feel differently later, so just prepare yourself.” With that he got up and went to prepare the first client for me.

You’ll feel differently later, he says. Ryan was crossing the border between being concerned and being flat out rude. What was his deal? Was this something that had happened before at this company? Was this something Ryan had done? Either way he was projecting some negative past experience onto me, and it was not called for.

I push my frustration with Ryan aside for the moment and sit down at my desk. As I bring my computer online I remind myself that I’m here to help others and not to fume over work place drama. I calm myself and try to think about the people who I’ll be seeing shortly. They’ll be sensitive spots and I need to be focused to make sure they have the best possible experience.

An image pops up onto my screen along with a description of the deceased and a little blurb on their relation to the griever. It was time to go to work.

It’s a busy day, and the time passes quickly. When you’re intently present to someone you don’t really notice the clock, and I don’t notice it’s lunch time until I get a cheesy dad joke from Jennifer.

We have fun exchanging cheesy joke after cheesy joke. We talk a little bit about how much fun yesterday was, and then we progress into discussing where we’re going to go for our next date. We eventually both agree on paintball, and then Jennifer has to go. All in all, a rather pleasant lunch break.

I’m feeling refreshed, and have almost forgotten about Ryan’s little rant this morning when it was time for my first post lunch griever.

I thought something was fishy when she was the exact same age as Jennifer. She had a similar career path too, only, more high profile. This new griever instead of going on to teach volleyball Post College was an Olympic track athlete who had lost her friend in a very tragic training accident.

The manner of death being included struck me as odd. That’s normally a detail that’s excluded, and I only grow more suspicious when a photo of the griever pops up. They don’t send me photos of grievers, and the photo looks fake. Not because there are obvious editing marks or Photoshop artifacts, but because the photo is too good.

Normally to get me photos they scan in something from an official document. Something that could be accessed by law enforcement, like a driver’s license. There’s a plain background. The person’s hair is normally skewed, and they have a fake looking smile on typically. I see a lot of photos like this and I can tell that the photo of the griever is not a driver’s license photo. The background is some tropical island. She’s got a smile that looks improbably white, not to mention gorgeous, and her hair has been obviously prepared just for this photo.

To say nothing of her looks. I didn’t want to think about it too much with a date later, but suffice it to say meeting someone as attractive as her was statistically impossible for anyone who didn’t work in the modeling or entertainment industry.

I have to remind myself again that however odd this file may be, there’s a real person here with a real problem that they need to have a real solution to. I force my suspicions down, and use the mirror to adopt the face of the loved one who has passed on.

The door opens just as I finish, and I put on my professional ‘supportive and understanding’ face.

The girl walks in, and she looks just like her photo. Her hair has been done cut and styled in the same way. She’s smiling in the same way. I think she might even be wearing the same clothes. She waves at me as she eagerly comes and sits down in front of my desk. With a controlled delicacy I move to the chair next to my desk and wait for her to start.

“Hey, I’m Linda, nice to meet you.” She extends a hand, but I don’t take it. This is ridiculous. The smiling and bouncy behavior I get. Everyone deals with grief differently. Just this morning I had a mother who dealt with her loss by laughing about it. Some people are just like that. I didn’t judge. I was just here to help.

Her bouncy reaction to her friend’s passing I could understand. What I didn’t understand was why she was trying to talk to me, and not her friend. Both Ryan and whatever therapist refers them here discuss in detail how this is supposed to work. They explain very clearly that they’re not to talk directly to me, at least not until they’ve said their goodbyes to their friend. It disrupts what they’re here to do and makes it harder on them to move on, and me to do my job.

Even with the ridiculous picture, her improbably good looks, and the breach in protocol, I manage to keep a lid on my frustrations. I’m positive somebody is messing with me now, but I still maintain my supportive expression and gesture for her to continue.

“What’s your name?” She asks. That was it. I was done. This was an insult to me, and to her friend. People came here to move on from a heavy loss in their life, not to play games.

“What’s your name?” She asks again, playfully touching my knee.

“Get out.” I say through gritted out.

“What?” She asks, pretending not to see my obvious displeasure at her behavior.

“Get. Out.” I say. Biting off each word. She’s taken aback by my strong negative reaction. I don’t know why. This was clearly a bad move on her part.

“The door. Is there.” I point. “Leave.” She resists, but when she sees just how tight my jawline is. She leaves.

I count to thirty to try and keep calm but this is an outrage. First all of Ryan’s meddling, and now this. I don’t know how she had done it. She would’ve had to fake a death certificate and a doctor’s note. Not to mention slipping through our own information gathering system. We had some really smart people on staff. It was their job to keep this sort of thing from happening.

Ryan, he should have stopped this. I hope it’s just an honest mistake, and that he didn’t let that woman through on purpose, but I’m going to find out. This was not what I was here for. I don’t wait for the end of the day, or even a break in the shift. I burst out of my office to confront Ryan here and now.

“What is your problem?” I demand. If I had been paying attention I would’ve noticed that there weren’t any patients waiting in line. The office is empty except for me and Ryan.

I do notice that Ryan doesn’t react very strongly to me breaking protocol and storming out of my office. But I’m too angry to really care.

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks, trying to pretend like he didn’t just let some random girl with obviously suspicious documentation slip by.

“That girl.” I point to the door. “Did not come here to grieve. That girl came here because she wanted to take a shifter on a date. Why did you let her in?”

“That girl?” Ryan asks, mimicking my pointing motion. “So you have a problem with ‘that girl’ taking you on a date, but not Jennifer.” I ball my hand into a fist.

“Jennifer followed protocol perfectly. I told you, she has no idea that I had anything to do with her seeing a shifter. She thinks I’m just some guy her friend set her up with.” Ryan’s eyes narrow ever so slightly when I mention her friend setting us up.

“So that’s how you two met.” He says in a whisper that he doesn’t think I can hear.

“Why does it matter how we met?” I demand. I want to punch my fist into his desk, but I’m going to control myself. I start mentally reaching for some trick to calm myself down.

“It doesn’t. Say you look pretty angry Ryan, do you want to punch my desk?” Now I want to punch more than his desk, but I control myself.

“Yeah, I think you want to punch my desk. By the way, did you see that guy I was talking to earlier? He was from security. Because you’re talking to a patient outside of work I’m going to need to see your phone.”

“I don’t believe you. You’ve never asked for this before. How do I know you’re not just going to sabotage my phone to end things with me and Jennifer? I mean, clearly you have no problem breaking rules to mess with me. Why would I trust you now?”

“You can not believe me all you want, but if you don’t want to have a meeting with security later today I’m going to need to see your phone.” I glance at the security cameras pointing at this desk. At least if he’s lying I can report this incident and have proof.

I take my phone out and set it on his desk in a less than gentle manner.

“Thank you.” He unlocks it right in front of me. He must’ve been watching through the camera in my office to get the password. I can see he’s doing something to it. “Now, do you feel angry right now Jason? You’ve got me poking at you all day trying to get you to break things off with this girl you clearly have a thing for. I’m letting strange women into your office. Your sacred space, the very same space where you met this girl, and now you’ve got me rifling through your phone doing who knows what to it.

“How are you feeling?” I’m trying to keep a lid on my boiling emotion, and his prodding is not helping. I definitely should not vocalize how I’m feeling. I’m having enough trouble avoiding doing something I’d regret, giving voice to that kind of strong emotion will not be helpful.

“I can see you’re about ready to pop. That’s good.”

‘Good! He thinks white hot rage is a good thing!?’ I shout inside my own head.

“Now, you’re about ready to explode aren’t you? You need some help getting a hold of it don’t you? Well you’re in luck. Do you remember that I’m the one who taught you how to maintain that ‘supportive’ smile you’re so good at holding? I also know all the tricks to getting around inside your brain.” If I had been thinking straight this should’ve scared. I wasn’t thinking straight. “As much as you hate me right now you’re going to have to listen to me in order to get rid of your anger.” He finishes messing with my phone and sets it down on his desk. I’m now the sole focus of his attention.

“Ryan, I know you just want to do some really unfriendly things right now. You need to channel those feelings. Focus on them, think exactly why I’m making you feel this way.” I don’t want to follow his command, but I can’t afford to ignore him either. He’s offering me the only way away from this anger. I heartily obey his command and start listing off the many reasons I’m boiling over. He’s trying to break things off with this girl for me. He took my phone. He let that girl into my office. He’s got this bond supervillain relaxed way of completely shredding my peace of mind.

“Good, now see those reasons floating in front of you like little balls. Each reason is a sphere hovering before you. A white hot sphere, see them like that, white hot burning spheres.” It’s such an odd command but I can see them before me, little floating pictures wreathed in flame. “Excellent, now merge them together, everything, all of it, flow it together into a single glowing white ball. See all the little reasons tumbling around inside this white hot ball. Fantastic, you’re doing great.” I added his relaxed encouragement to the white hot ball.

“We’re getting there Ryan. Let hat ball burn. Let it spin, and let it burn, hotter and hotter, brighter and brighter. It’s so hot you can feel the heat.” I really can. I can almost feel the heat it’s burning so hot in my mind.

“Now comes the fun part, let it cool. Let it relax until it’s just a soft white globe. Like a ball of pudding floating in the air.” I can’t believe he thinks this is going to fix my anger. If anything it only….it only…. Wait, why was I angry again? Something about a girl and phone? I think it was bad, but I really shouldn’t get this mad at work

“Perfect, you’re calming down now. That’s great, now think about the girl. You remember the girl? Put her face in the globe. Put her number in the globe. Put your meeting in the globe, and definitely put your date in the globe. Put everything in the globe that has to do with her, every last scrap of memory that has to do with her, down to the cut of her hair when you first saw her.” I feel like I shouldn’t do what he’s telling me, but now that the globe has cooled I feel like it’s just pulling things out of me. I see every memory of Jennifer appear inside of this great white orb. Her name was Jennifer right? Wait, what was I thinking about it again.

“Almost there, just a little further. All you need to do is add your name.” I want to hold onto my name. I try and grasp onto it harder, but the orb’s magnetism is too strong. I feel my name rip free from my mind. “and now add your face.”

It’s the last thing this shifter was holding onto, and I can see it leave his mind. The instant he lets it go His face reverts to that of the last girl he’s seen. We paid her good money to do her part, and she had gotten under his skin perfectly. Very good, now let the orb dissolve. Imagine it melting like a ball of snow. You see it spreading out and sinking into the carpet. It’s going….It’s going….Now it’s gone.” This new man, this freshly formed man snaps up straight as soon as the orb is done melting. He won’t even remember what he’s been doing for the last several minutes.

“Oh, hey Ryan, I thought I’d… I’d um.” He fumbles. “What am I doing out here?”

“You were just heading home Marcus.” I tell him.

“Marcus?” He asks. I point to his chest.

“Marcus.” I say.

“Oh right, I’m Marcus.” He face palms like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Sorry man, so I was just heading home?”

“Yup, it’s been a light day with patients, and you worked so hard yesterday we figured we’d let you out early.” Right on cue a security guard pops out of the stairwell. “Here, you’ve been feeling a bit out of sorts so James here was going to escort you to your car.”

‘Marcus’ turns to see the guard. “Oh hey James. I’m Marcus.” The guard nods to ‘Marcus’, acknowledging him, and ‘Marcus’ begins to walk over to him.

“Hang on a second there Marcus.” I say. “You don’t want to forget your phone man.” He turns and I pass it to him. “Yeah, that glitch you were telling me about is annoying but I think I fixed it. You shouldn’t have any more trouble with it.”

“Yeah, that glitch, yeah, man that glitch was annoying wasn’t it?” I hope that guard was properly debriefed. His mind would be fragile for a few more minutes and he needed to be kept away from anyone with a strong personality.

“It sure was. Hey, one more thing buddy. You’re still wearing the face of a patient. If you’re having trouble remembering what your face looks like, just use mine. I don’t mind, and I don’t get out much so there’s not much chance that anyone will recognize you.” And if anyone did make the connection I would hear about it and see that the little slip up was resolved.

“Oh yeah, I probably don’t want to walk around looking like a girl do I?” He jokes, smirking a bit.

“That could get awkward for you.” I comment, mirroring his smirk.

“See you tomorrow Ryan.” He says, waving goodbye to me.

“See you tomorrow Marcus.” I wave back.

As the door closes behind the security guard and ‘Marcus’ I mentally pat myself on the back. Another crisis had been averted. We had spent too much time molding ‘Marcus’ for some girl to ruin everything now.