Disclaimer: None of it is mine! Today's self esteem out the window...
AN: This has been edited so that it is easier to read. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Learning to Run Again:
Part 1: Invincible
Aqua
I'm a Parker; a leader, invincible. The Centre is my blood, my life. My past. My future, too, until I retrieve Jarod.
The deal with Daddy permits that I return Jarod for my freedom from The Centre, so he says.
At first, I thought it would be easy catching the most successful genius The Centre has ever had. Before Jarod escaped, I was working in Corporate as head of security. Then, when he escaped, I was called back into the "field." I wasn't expecting lifetime head labrat to put up much of a fight. I used to be his best and only friend, surly he would come crawling back muttering apologies. All I had to do was find him, and as quick as he got out, he's back in.
I was wrong. Immensly wrong. Jarod resisted and I get a queezy feeling that he always will. It will only make things worse for him later when I catch him. Lyle already proved that when he played his games with his jumper cables and Jarod when I was shot in the back by one of Raines' clumsy snipers. For five years now, I have been chasing Sydney's pet around the entire damn country. I have no guilt over this situation and I'm definitly not worried about him. I am a Parker. Parker means no guilt. Parker means no emotions. Parker means brick wall. Invincible.
I've come to detest his little tricks, breadcrumbs, etc. He lives to torment me. He thrives on it. Over the last four years, I've stayed in more cheap, dingy, roach-infested, hotels than I care to count, been humiliated in front of my team one too many times, and been stuck with Broots the official coffee-spilling computer geek and Sydney the parental guilt-obsessed shrink just too damn long. King Pezhead needs a hobby that does NOT include sugar or me. Preferably one behind Centre bars.
A few times, I've had the delightful pleasure of catching Jarod. Though circumstances kept me from keeping him; whether it be hurricanes, bank robbers, empaths. Somehow, I didn't capture him. I let him go.
Daddy, of course, wasn't thrilled.
As soon as I care, I'll let the world know. If there's any positive result of Jarod escaping, its what he's learning. Learning about things like me, Mama, Lyle, Daddy, The Centre, and yes sometimes it's good when he learns about himself. For example, the clone, Gemini, and Ethan, my half brother that I share with Jarod. St. Jarod himself fixed those situations that even I didn't approve of. Though, he doesn't need to rub my face in it all. And when he uncovers another lie I've lived by, he just has to grind some more salt in the already flaming wounds. But no, I'm the invincible Ice Queen that shows no pain. So I don't. I'll take a drink or a cigarette instead. Invincible.
Jarod and Angelo were my best friends for so long. Adventures ranging from following the disgusting wheezing corpse that drags around his breath of life in a tank to discovering my long lost sister, Faith. I knew Faith for a few short days, but I still miss her. I remember simply cracking after her loss and crying in front of my two friends. Back then though, I didn't need my icy facade to be accepted. Instead of laughing at me, Jarod held me and actually made me feel better. Cousin It himself still hangs around me and Wonder Boy continues to call at hours of the night when God isn't even awake. I suppose even after all these years we're still a connected trio.
Jarod has shown me so much, yet I desperatly want to take him back.
Back to the place he hates.
Back to his Hell.
Back to my Hell.
Maybe I just don't want to suffer alone. I need someone to share my pain. Sometimes, I don't know what I would do if I actually captured Jarod.
Sometimes, after a failed attempt at bringing him back, I daydream (in vain) about dragging him through the front entrance of The Centre in shackles by his hair. As soon as the expected stabs about how "proud" Mama would start I'd toss him in his cell like yesterday's garbage with my own immitation of the trademark smirk of his I've grown to hate. All done proudly with glory and confidence. Complete with a pat on the back from the Triumvirate and a little gold star of approvable from Daddy. I really am just the dog fetching the bone for my master's approval. The Centre really is my master when it comes down to it.
Other times, the guilt about imprisoning the one living person who has never lied to me and given me more than anyone, pulls at my concience, or what's left of it. He did give me most of my knowledge about Mama's murder, momentos of the rare pleasures of my past, my first kiss, and Thomas. I will always treasure the time with Tommy that I was given by Jarod. I guess when I look at my situation through these new eyes I find it hard to resist the urge to hug him and whisper a thank you. But no. Emotions get in the way and make you weak. Invincible.
Of course I'd be able to leave.
I'd miss Sydney and Broots, my only true friends now.
I've known Syd since before I can even remember. When I stayed at the Centre with Daddy as a child, I was always in his office. I either talked about Mama or asked about Jarod. He would even let me go see him. I guess I must have really annoyed him. Dr. Spock really needs a life outside of The Centre, The Chuckle Hut, his favorite science project, and me. I can tell that he counts me as his daughter just like he includes Jarod as his son. To this day he still stops our bickering and teasing like before. He is still our "father". Daddy could never compete.
Broots is one of the nicest guys I've ever met. A nervous, studdering, pitiful coward, but a nice guy just the same. He wouldn't hurt a flea; he probobaly couldn't if he tried. I long for the day that he can have a conversation with me without a studder in it. Though, I do enjoy my overwhelming power I have over the canary. I've heard about his fantasy dreams about me. But he's more like a little brother. Atleast he's not a phycopathic, cannibalistic, murdering sociopath. I just need to get him a plastic cover for his chair for all the coffee spills and we'll be on civil terms. He will back me up all the way no matter how much I intimide him. And Debbie is just a perfect niece. She's a great kid. Before I met her I thought that I hated all kids. Kids are loud, don't stay still, make a mess, and ask too many questions that I don't want to answer. They're just disasters waiting to happen. She proved me wrong with her childish innocence which is something only Sydney and Jarod have ever done in my life. The only ones that can and will crack the black ice I've layered myself in. Black ice is the most dangerous kind.
Jarod. Jarod, my best friend, love, and enemy. Enemy. Well, he is getting what he deserved by leaving The Centre. He's their property and he needs to get used to it.
But still,
Is my freedom worth Jarod's?
He'll understand; annoyingly he always does.
Parker.
No guilt.
Invincible.
Learning to Run Again
Part 2: The Waves
Aqua
I stand at the edge of the ocean in khakis rolled up half way up my shins with a long sleeve sky-blue shirt. I'm watching the waves smack at the shore and rush over my bare feet as if they need to be somewhere. As if they were being chased. The waves remind me that the world goes on, sometimes peacefully, and sometimes roughly. Life goes on, even if you are being hunted and sought after everywhere you turn.
Here's the why, I'm a genius, prodigy, specifically a Pretender. I become different people to simulate the outcome of various situations. After over 30 years of inprisonment and simming for The Centre I realized that my SIM's were being used to do the opposite of what I had initially believed. So many innocent people were being killed from my abused simulations and discoveries. I escaped, leaving everything and nothing behind me. Now I am running from The Centre for my freedom. They think I'm their property and that they own me; it's sickening. People thinking they can keep a human on a chain, like a dog. I'm the dog performing tricks for my master. When I disobey, I pay. Running away is the worst thing I could have done for them, the best for me. Now, I just have to find out who I am.
I have a human bloodhound on my trail. She goes by the name of Miss Parker. She used to be the sun I revolved around, the one who brought me happiness, even in the dark, frigid, dreary walls of The Centre. My best friend was my window to the outside world. Then, her mother, Catherine Parker a wonderful person, was murdered. Parker was sent away to boarding school by her father, and when she came back she was no longer the sweet innocent little girl that had given me my first kiss, but simply her father's daughter of stone.
Now she is the Ice Queen hot on my trail, trying to recapture me. Parker has a deal with her father, Chairman of The Centre. She has to bring me back, and she can leave the Centre. She was naive enough to believe him. But I know that he will never let her go.
She believes that she still loves him, even after what he's done to her. The web of lies she's trapped in were all created by him to turn into the hateful pained woman she is now. Though many overlook her pain, I understand that she has feelings, she just can't show them. She'd kill me if she knew I thought that. She carries more pain than anyone I've ever known. And she hides it all just the same.
She doesn't work alone to find me, though. A team of three work to find me. My mentor, protector, and "father", Sydney, is a third of that team. His part is to find my "emotional" meaning in the clues I leave for them. Broots is the technical worker. Miss. Parker's personal computer geek. I have worked with him twice and he's a bit of a coward, but he's just another innocent corrupted by The Centre. Besides that, he also enjoys Pop-tarts. Parker is the leader with a 9 mm Smith and Wesson. She'd never shoot me, I know that and deep down so does she.
I realize the time. It is 2 in the morning, time for Parker's wakeup call. I push speed-dial number 1 (Syd's dropped down to number 2. He's not nearly as fun to bother since he enjoys my calls), and wait for her to pick up.
"What, Jarod?" she half screams, half growls into the phone. She knows that only I would call at 2 am. Anyone else would rather perform their own root canal than face Miss Parker in a bad mood. Or well, face Miss Parker.
"Do you ever watch the waves of the ocean, Miss. Parker?," I inquire as a reply. My questions now serve as a greeting as well.
"No Jarod. I live next to the ocean, but never felt the urge to look at it. I've yet to see it." she replies in full Parker mode.
"I didn't say 'look at the waves'. I said 'watch the waves'. There is a difference."
"I'm on pins and needles over here." Her voice is tired and menacing at the same time.
"The waves seem to replicate our lives, Parker. Choppy and dangerous most times, but silent and still other times. Somehow, you know that when they are silent, they are only planning their next move." I reply matter-of-factly.
"And who, Jarod, is they?"
"Now Parker, I know I'm supposed to be the genius, but you're not that naive."
"Ah, of course, what every problem is caused by, what every suicidal lunatic jumps for, what every cat up a tree hides form, and what every snack machine resists your dollar for, The Centre. Is there a point to this Jarod?"
I sigh, "What did we do to deserve the fate we've gotten?" I purposfully avoid answering her question, because there really isn't a point. We both know that.
"Maybe Lady Luck just has a different agenda for us."
"Lady who?" I don't believe I've met this woman. "Does she work at the Centre?" I hear her stifle a laugh, mere miles away.
"No Jarod. It's a figure of speech ok. Lady Lu- never mind. Maybe we're not lucky."
"You shouldn't have to be lucky to have some happiness." I still wonder who this woman is, but I drop the subject. We stay silent for a moment, both answering my question in our own minds. Finally I speak up again. "Well, maybe our luck has yet to find us, Miss. Parker."
Just before I am ready to end this conversation, I hold the phone out over the deck allowing her to hear the waves. They are quieter than ussual, but you can tell they are there.
After I hang up, my thoughts turn once more toward my childhood friend, now my enemy, the predator.
Its amazing Parker isn't dead, after all she's been through. Just a few months ago, she was shot while trying to save her father. It was not her first time either. A few years ago she was shot, by Brigitte, while again trying to save her father. Add to that the stress of working at the Centre, and the strain of living under so many lies.it's a miracle she's still breathing.
But Parker's always been a fighter. She always will be.
The sound of a car parking interupts my thoughts. I can tell that it Parker's Porsche Boxter. As with most things of her's, it is sleek and dark. A car door slams echoing into the night, and if I were not on the Blue Cove sand, I would hear her 4 inch stilleto heels stealthily approaching me.
I turn, and watch her cryptically.
She heads for me, her hand at her back. I just stand there, watching.
I'm not surprised that she found me so fast. Parker's been getting better at following my abstract clues.
Most people would look like Raines in a good mood at such an early hour (or late), but of course Parker doesn't. Its nearly 3 in the morning, and she's in a no doubt expensive, gray, business suit. Perfect Centre attire; dark, gloomy, and uninviting. I'd guess she doesn't wear anything else.
Parker reaches me, and draws her gun with a hesitant expression smearing her face. "Jarod." Obviously our last conversation has moved her, or her routine has changed; I'm not cuffed. She gives me a look, almost, sympathetic. I'm tempted to inquire about this Lady Luck.
"Miss. Parker, so kind of you to join me."
"No Jarod, I'm not going to tell you who she is." she says firmly. I crack a guilty grin. She's always been able to read me far too well. She raises one brow, though her eyes are laughing.
"They're calm tonight, Parker." I can see her arguing with herself in her own mind. I think I even see her eyes watering. It has to be the light. That would be my friend I'd be seeing. Abruptly, her head snaps up and her sapphire eyes pierce into my chocolate ones. Almost pleading.
"It doesn't matter, Jarod. I really am sorry." she says while taking a step forward. A mere five inches may seperate us.
I cock my head down to reach her level. "Oh, but it does matter." I say with a compassionate smile.
She reaches out and grabs me by my shoulder, but I brush it off as if it was easy. I start to sprint to my jeep. She'll never catch me in those heels, and she knows it.
I hear her call out for me, "Jarod!" then she thinks I can't hear her and whispers, "Thanks."
I leave her, standing there. I leave her standing there. Even though I want to take her with me, take her away from the Centre, I leave her there.
An hour later I call her from a cheap Blue Cove Motel. The inexpensive ones hold the most ineresting people.
"What do you want now, Jarod."
"You're welcome." She sighs.
"I just. . . I wasn't-"
"You don't need to explain yourself, Parker. I understand, I always have and I always will. Trust in that, Parker. Trust..."
I hang up. I know she would really shoot me if she heard me tell her to trust me.
If only she would trust in it. If only she would trust in me. I know she's been hurt too many times to trust though.
I work every day to help the weak and abused. But I can't help her. The one person I care about most is the one person I can't help. Parker is the most abused person I know, but far from weak. I only wish she'd let me help her. I want to help her. I need to help her. Help her to escape the Centre. I wonder if this is the way things should really be. Guilt overwhelms me when I consider that while I am free, she is trapped still. I need this freedom to find out who I am though. So does she.
But still,
Is my freedom worth Parker's?
Listening for the soothing music of the waves, I hear nothing. Swallowing, I blink once and sigh before I send Miss. Parker my next clue.
Learning to Run Again
Part 3: Courage
Aqua
Heads turned as they felt the presence of power. Backs straightened and hands typed faster. The presence was routine, but its air was always in charge and demanding. Miss Parker tended to come across this way every day. Stilleto heels soon reached the desk she always searched out. She loved the way every head turned her way and the authoritee she held over these people. Standing behind the balding man, her manicured scarlet nails grabbed Broots' shoulders slowly and delibratly. Soon, his coffee was spreading over the keys of his keyboard.
"Mi-Miss. Parker! Oh no. That's the second keyboard this week. You've gotta st-st-stop doing that," he said with only a few stutters. Miss Parker's left eyebrow jutted up in her teasing manner. "Of course, only if y-y-you want to st-stop that, but I re-re-realy th-th-think that it would save The C-c-centre some money and-"
"Shutup Broots. What would save the Centre money, is if we could just find Jarod so that he would stop stealing from us. A keyboard here a coffee there. Big deal, Jarod's losing us a project here, 6.8 million there, and oh look- there goes another car of Lyle's that Frankenboy decided to use for target practice!" She smacked her hand onto the desk for reinforcement. Miss. Parker's replies were always intense and thourough.
"I'm sorry Miss. Parker, was there something you wanted?"
"I want Jarod."
"Uh- anything else?"
"I want you and Sydney to meet me in my office. Jarod has sent me yet another surprise."
"Oh, uh, yea sure. I'll be there as soon as I can. I need to order another keyboard from SL 8. Oh and I'll tell Sydney. Did you want-" he turned in his chair to face her, but realized she had left. A few people were staring at his spilled coffee while the rest were wondering who he was talking to. "I'm switching to decaff," he mumbled under his breath, "Miss. Parker could care to do the same."
*****
Like an eager tiger, Miss Parker eyed the package sitting on her desk. She clicked the pen up and down and then casually dropped it into the pen cup.
"Good morning Miss Parker."
"Where's Broots?"
"He'll be here soon." replied the calm accented voice.
"Well Freud, your pet has sent another goody for us to smash our heads with."
"Excuse me Miss. Parker, but 'pet' is hardly the name for my treatment of Jarod. I didn't treat him like an animal as such." Sydney dared to protest.
"Oh alright, lets look at the treatment that you permited with Jarod. We can start with the fact that you have kept him locked up his entire life, stole him from his family, tested drugs on him, cloned him, ignored his pleas to be told who he was, and refuse to acknowledge the fact that you care about him, or should I say more?" she challenged as she slowly walked toward him until they were face to face.
"I didn't do those things. The Centre did."
Broots entered the room knocking over a stack of documents as he did so. "Oh, s-sorry about that. Am I interrupting something?" he said.
"Pick them up and no you are not interrupting something. Just another of Syd's feeble attempts to discharge all accusation against him."
"Miss Parker, I-" Sydney began.
"Save it, its not worth it."
"Alright, can we open the package Jarod sent us now?"
"Calm down, you look like a kid on Christmas Eve." Miss Parker said as she tore the seal off and opened the flaps. Pulling out a note, she unfolded it and read:
Take a look out your window.
-Jarod
She took three long strides to the window. Staring out, all she saw was the sand and ocean of Blue Cove. Suddenly, the insistent ringing of her desk phone began. Pressing the speaker button, she knew exactly who would have this kind of timing.
"I don't see a thing, Jarod."
"Well, maybe you're not looking hard enough. Its not unnatural for you to miss what is right in front of your eyes, Parker."
Sydney took the discarded note and looked through the glass, "I don't see anything either Jarod."
"Well, hello Sydney. Life is treating you fine?"
"I work at the Centre Jarod. Why bother to ask?"
"So true."
The three heard clattering on the other end of the line and then an abrupt crash.
"What the hell are you doing?" Miss. Parker inquired in her polite way.
"Well, actually I am preparing for my latest pretend. Do you have any idea who Pam is, a chef maybe? It has been bothering me for a while."
"Even if I did know or care I wouldn't tell you, Jarod."
"Hmmm, just as thoughtful as ever. Did you get enough sleep last night, Parker. After all, it was late when we met."
Sydney and Broots' eyebrows rose a notch, but Miss. Parker refused to even achnowledge that they were there.
"Oh yes, isn't four hours of sleep enough for everyone?"
"I wouldn't be the right one to ask," Jarod replied.
"What is the point of this call Jarod? Why am I looking out my window like a lost baboon!?" she growled.
"Think. Think about last night."
"This isn't about those pointless waves again is it?!" Jarod laughed on the other end.
"You tell me, Parker."
"No. I think you should tell me for once! Jarod!" The line was already dead, "He lives to torment me." she muttered as she sank down into her office chair pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Did you and Jarod meet last night, Miss Parker?" Sydney asked.
"That's what Boy Wonder said isn't it!?"
"What happened?"
"What do you think happened? He got away, again!"
"Is that all? Jarod seemed to be in a pretty good mood."
"Of course he was. Have you been listening to anything that I have been telling you? He got away and he just wants to rub my nose in it."
"This is different, Miss Parker. I refuse to believe it was just any meeting."
Miss Parker started to pace back and forth hurridly. "What do you want me to say?" she replied, "Do you want me to say that I let him get away? Do you want me to say that I always let him get away? Do you want me to say that its no coincidence that he has never been captured by me? Is that what you want? Well, Sydney if that's what you want to hear, then there you go. You've heard it" She turned her back to them then and slightly cocked her head to the right.
"I-i-is it true M-m-miss. Parker? Do you really not want J-j-jarod back?" Broots studdered in shock. He had always thought that Miss Parker's loyalty was to The Centre and no one else, including herself. It took her a few minutes to respond, but the words came out slowly, almost cautiously.
"I don't know. I just really don't know, Broots. I'm not sure about anything anymore. As I discover more and more of the lies that this place is built on and all the terrible things that it has done I just sink to its levels. My mother died trying to end all the evil that occurs between these walls, and still, I sacrificed my soul to it. Mama was always so strong, and I try to act like I am. I'm not, I crumbled for this place. I gave in to it."
Sydney's eyes mourned for her, his little girl. He had always had strong feelings for Miss Parker and had always felt her pain, but he never understood the depths of which that pain stabbed her inside.
"Miss. Parker, I don't know what to say. I, I never knew."
"Yeah, well now you do." she whispered.
"You have not commited your soul to The Centre, Miss Parker. Not yet. You still have a chance to get out. A chance for a real life. Its too late for me, but you and Jarod can still have your freedom. It won't be easy, but you can do it."
"No Sydney. I can't. I can't. My father would never permit it."
"This is your life, not his. Forget your father, he has done nothing but caused you pain. He treats you like he treats his sweepers, like a weapon. Leave The Centre, Miss Parker, before its too late."
"Go Miss. Parker. You're just as much a prisoner here as Jarod. Go." Broots added boldly without one studder.
"Excuse me, am I interrupting something?" Lyle had snuck in, in his foxy manner.
"Yes. What do you want, Lyle."
"Now is that any way to treat your own brother?" He flashed one of his fake smiles.
"Well where is a mouse when you need one for that cheesy smile? Give me a break, Lyle, and answer my question."
"Dear old Dad wishes to see you."
"Wonderful." she said as she whisked out of the room leaving a trail of fire in her wake.
"Miss Parker is not in the best of moods today Lyle." Sydney explained.
"Well, notify me if she ever discovers a good mood." He replied before he left as well.
Sydney and Broots exchanged looks before departing as well.
*****
The frosted double glass doors flung open simutaneously and created the path for Miss Parker to enter her father's office. Standing in front of his desk with her hands clasped in front of her, she listened to him finish his conversation. The chair moved up and down with emphasize on every other word.
"I told you that I make the final decision on all projects, Cox. Make sure you next time that you follow my orders not Raines' or else there won't be a next time!" The phone was slammed back into its cradle. Mr. Parker turned his chair and finally noticed his daughter waiting patiently. "Ahh, Angel. I was just finishing up some business."
"The Grim Reaper has been a naughty boy? Imagine such a thing. Remember, I was the one who told you not to trust him, Daddy."
"Mr. Cox will be dealt with."
"What did he do?"
"Its need to know only."
"And I don't. I see. Well Daddy, it seems that I rarely need to know."
"When it pertains to the pursuit of Jarod then you need to know. Otherwise, it will only distract you from the hunt," he explained to her as if she were a four year old, "And speaking of Jarod, how is your latest clue coming along?"
"We're still working on it. I doubt it will lead us anywhere." Her eye contact wandered as she said this.
"That's what I was afraid of," he paused as though he was unsure that he should continue but slowly let the words come, "Ummm, Angel, do you think that you will ever catch Jarod? He is valuable Centre property and we do need him back urgently."
"Why?" The word slipped out before she could stop it and she bit her bottom lip by habit.
"Why? Why?! What kind of a question is that?! We need our property back now because Jarod is costing The Centre money, corrupting my Angel, and we need projects completed!" he calmed down slightly, "Besides that, he is a security risk. Do you know what could happen if he exposed The Centre? We would all be doomed. In fact, I don't know why he hasn't already."
"He needs his answers first, Daddy. And I only asked why because I want to know what he will be doing when I return him."
"Jarod will no longer be your concern when he is returned. You will return to Coorporate and everything will be the way it was. Both of you will be back where you belong-" Miss Parker's eyes shrank and her mouth dropped as she cut in.
"Daddy! You promised me that I would be free as soon as I returned Jarod! It was our deal. You promised." She was obviously in shock that she had been played so easily once again.
"Now Angel, what do you think I'd do without you with me? I need you here. And you will be so much safer and happier here, where you grew up." Mr. Parker's concerned act obviously wasn't having any effect on Miss Parker. She quickly paced the room back and forth while shaking her head.
"Daddy," she began, "All the lies. All the treachary. I just- I just can't take this anymore. I can't live like this. I'm sorry Daddy." Mr. Parker rose behind his desk. His face hardened as he stared at his daughter. He always knew that she was too much like Catherine for her own good.
"Sorry for what?" He enunciated each word slowly and clearly. Parker just shook her head and left the room. The chairman sat back down at his desk and reached for his phone. "Yes, I would like for you to keep an eye on my daughter. I think she might be up to something."
AN: FEEDBACK/RR please!
Aquagirl157@cs.com
AN: This has been edited so that it is easier to read. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Learning to Run Again:
Part 1: Invincible
Aqua
I'm a Parker; a leader, invincible. The Centre is my blood, my life. My past. My future, too, until I retrieve Jarod.
The deal with Daddy permits that I return Jarod for my freedom from The Centre, so he says.
At first, I thought it would be easy catching the most successful genius The Centre has ever had. Before Jarod escaped, I was working in Corporate as head of security. Then, when he escaped, I was called back into the "field." I wasn't expecting lifetime head labrat to put up much of a fight. I used to be his best and only friend, surly he would come crawling back muttering apologies. All I had to do was find him, and as quick as he got out, he's back in.
I was wrong. Immensly wrong. Jarod resisted and I get a queezy feeling that he always will. It will only make things worse for him later when I catch him. Lyle already proved that when he played his games with his jumper cables and Jarod when I was shot in the back by one of Raines' clumsy snipers. For five years now, I have been chasing Sydney's pet around the entire damn country. I have no guilt over this situation and I'm definitly not worried about him. I am a Parker. Parker means no guilt. Parker means no emotions. Parker means brick wall. Invincible.
I've come to detest his little tricks, breadcrumbs, etc. He lives to torment me. He thrives on it. Over the last four years, I've stayed in more cheap, dingy, roach-infested, hotels than I care to count, been humiliated in front of my team one too many times, and been stuck with Broots the official coffee-spilling computer geek and Sydney the parental guilt-obsessed shrink just too damn long. King Pezhead needs a hobby that does NOT include sugar or me. Preferably one behind Centre bars.
A few times, I've had the delightful pleasure of catching Jarod. Though circumstances kept me from keeping him; whether it be hurricanes, bank robbers, empaths. Somehow, I didn't capture him. I let him go.
Daddy, of course, wasn't thrilled.
As soon as I care, I'll let the world know. If there's any positive result of Jarod escaping, its what he's learning. Learning about things like me, Mama, Lyle, Daddy, The Centre, and yes sometimes it's good when he learns about himself. For example, the clone, Gemini, and Ethan, my half brother that I share with Jarod. St. Jarod himself fixed those situations that even I didn't approve of. Though, he doesn't need to rub my face in it all. And when he uncovers another lie I've lived by, he just has to grind some more salt in the already flaming wounds. But no, I'm the invincible Ice Queen that shows no pain. So I don't. I'll take a drink or a cigarette instead. Invincible.
Jarod and Angelo were my best friends for so long. Adventures ranging from following the disgusting wheezing corpse that drags around his breath of life in a tank to discovering my long lost sister, Faith. I knew Faith for a few short days, but I still miss her. I remember simply cracking after her loss and crying in front of my two friends. Back then though, I didn't need my icy facade to be accepted. Instead of laughing at me, Jarod held me and actually made me feel better. Cousin It himself still hangs around me and Wonder Boy continues to call at hours of the night when God isn't even awake. I suppose even after all these years we're still a connected trio.
Jarod has shown me so much, yet I desperatly want to take him back.
Back to the place he hates.
Back to his Hell.
Back to my Hell.
Maybe I just don't want to suffer alone. I need someone to share my pain. Sometimes, I don't know what I would do if I actually captured Jarod.
Sometimes, after a failed attempt at bringing him back, I daydream (in vain) about dragging him through the front entrance of The Centre in shackles by his hair. As soon as the expected stabs about how "proud" Mama would start I'd toss him in his cell like yesterday's garbage with my own immitation of the trademark smirk of his I've grown to hate. All done proudly with glory and confidence. Complete with a pat on the back from the Triumvirate and a little gold star of approvable from Daddy. I really am just the dog fetching the bone for my master's approval. The Centre really is my master when it comes down to it.
Other times, the guilt about imprisoning the one living person who has never lied to me and given me more than anyone, pulls at my concience, or what's left of it. He did give me most of my knowledge about Mama's murder, momentos of the rare pleasures of my past, my first kiss, and Thomas. I will always treasure the time with Tommy that I was given by Jarod. I guess when I look at my situation through these new eyes I find it hard to resist the urge to hug him and whisper a thank you. But no. Emotions get in the way and make you weak. Invincible.
Of course I'd be able to leave.
I'd miss Sydney and Broots, my only true friends now.
I've known Syd since before I can even remember. When I stayed at the Centre with Daddy as a child, I was always in his office. I either talked about Mama or asked about Jarod. He would even let me go see him. I guess I must have really annoyed him. Dr. Spock really needs a life outside of The Centre, The Chuckle Hut, his favorite science project, and me. I can tell that he counts me as his daughter just like he includes Jarod as his son. To this day he still stops our bickering and teasing like before. He is still our "father". Daddy could never compete.
Broots is one of the nicest guys I've ever met. A nervous, studdering, pitiful coward, but a nice guy just the same. He wouldn't hurt a flea; he probobaly couldn't if he tried. I long for the day that he can have a conversation with me without a studder in it. Though, I do enjoy my overwhelming power I have over the canary. I've heard about his fantasy dreams about me. But he's more like a little brother. Atleast he's not a phycopathic, cannibalistic, murdering sociopath. I just need to get him a plastic cover for his chair for all the coffee spills and we'll be on civil terms. He will back me up all the way no matter how much I intimide him. And Debbie is just a perfect niece. She's a great kid. Before I met her I thought that I hated all kids. Kids are loud, don't stay still, make a mess, and ask too many questions that I don't want to answer. They're just disasters waiting to happen. She proved me wrong with her childish innocence which is something only Sydney and Jarod have ever done in my life. The only ones that can and will crack the black ice I've layered myself in. Black ice is the most dangerous kind.
Jarod. Jarod, my best friend, love, and enemy. Enemy. Well, he is getting what he deserved by leaving The Centre. He's their property and he needs to get used to it.
But still,
Is my freedom worth Jarod's?
He'll understand; annoyingly he always does.
Parker.
No guilt.
Invincible.
Learning to Run Again
Part 2: The Waves
Aqua
I stand at the edge of the ocean in khakis rolled up half way up my shins with a long sleeve sky-blue shirt. I'm watching the waves smack at the shore and rush over my bare feet as if they need to be somewhere. As if they were being chased. The waves remind me that the world goes on, sometimes peacefully, and sometimes roughly. Life goes on, even if you are being hunted and sought after everywhere you turn.
Here's the why, I'm a genius, prodigy, specifically a Pretender. I become different people to simulate the outcome of various situations. After over 30 years of inprisonment and simming for The Centre I realized that my SIM's were being used to do the opposite of what I had initially believed. So many innocent people were being killed from my abused simulations and discoveries. I escaped, leaving everything and nothing behind me. Now I am running from The Centre for my freedom. They think I'm their property and that they own me; it's sickening. People thinking they can keep a human on a chain, like a dog. I'm the dog performing tricks for my master. When I disobey, I pay. Running away is the worst thing I could have done for them, the best for me. Now, I just have to find out who I am.
I have a human bloodhound on my trail. She goes by the name of Miss Parker. She used to be the sun I revolved around, the one who brought me happiness, even in the dark, frigid, dreary walls of The Centre. My best friend was my window to the outside world. Then, her mother, Catherine Parker a wonderful person, was murdered. Parker was sent away to boarding school by her father, and when she came back she was no longer the sweet innocent little girl that had given me my first kiss, but simply her father's daughter of stone.
Now she is the Ice Queen hot on my trail, trying to recapture me. Parker has a deal with her father, Chairman of The Centre. She has to bring me back, and she can leave the Centre. She was naive enough to believe him. But I know that he will never let her go.
She believes that she still loves him, even after what he's done to her. The web of lies she's trapped in were all created by him to turn into the hateful pained woman she is now. Though many overlook her pain, I understand that she has feelings, she just can't show them. She'd kill me if she knew I thought that. She carries more pain than anyone I've ever known. And she hides it all just the same.
She doesn't work alone to find me, though. A team of three work to find me. My mentor, protector, and "father", Sydney, is a third of that team. His part is to find my "emotional" meaning in the clues I leave for them. Broots is the technical worker. Miss. Parker's personal computer geek. I have worked with him twice and he's a bit of a coward, but he's just another innocent corrupted by The Centre. Besides that, he also enjoys Pop-tarts. Parker is the leader with a 9 mm Smith and Wesson. She'd never shoot me, I know that and deep down so does she.
I realize the time. It is 2 in the morning, time for Parker's wakeup call. I push speed-dial number 1 (Syd's dropped down to number 2. He's not nearly as fun to bother since he enjoys my calls), and wait for her to pick up.
"What, Jarod?" she half screams, half growls into the phone. She knows that only I would call at 2 am. Anyone else would rather perform their own root canal than face Miss Parker in a bad mood. Or well, face Miss Parker.
"Do you ever watch the waves of the ocean, Miss. Parker?," I inquire as a reply. My questions now serve as a greeting as well.
"No Jarod. I live next to the ocean, but never felt the urge to look at it. I've yet to see it." she replies in full Parker mode.
"I didn't say 'look at the waves'. I said 'watch the waves'. There is a difference."
"I'm on pins and needles over here." Her voice is tired and menacing at the same time.
"The waves seem to replicate our lives, Parker. Choppy and dangerous most times, but silent and still other times. Somehow, you know that when they are silent, they are only planning their next move." I reply matter-of-factly.
"And who, Jarod, is they?"
"Now Parker, I know I'm supposed to be the genius, but you're not that naive."
"Ah, of course, what every problem is caused by, what every suicidal lunatic jumps for, what every cat up a tree hides form, and what every snack machine resists your dollar for, The Centre. Is there a point to this Jarod?"
I sigh, "What did we do to deserve the fate we've gotten?" I purposfully avoid answering her question, because there really isn't a point. We both know that.
"Maybe Lady Luck just has a different agenda for us."
"Lady who?" I don't believe I've met this woman. "Does she work at the Centre?" I hear her stifle a laugh, mere miles away.
"No Jarod. It's a figure of speech ok. Lady Lu- never mind. Maybe we're not lucky."
"You shouldn't have to be lucky to have some happiness." I still wonder who this woman is, but I drop the subject. We stay silent for a moment, both answering my question in our own minds. Finally I speak up again. "Well, maybe our luck has yet to find us, Miss. Parker."
Just before I am ready to end this conversation, I hold the phone out over the deck allowing her to hear the waves. They are quieter than ussual, but you can tell they are there.
After I hang up, my thoughts turn once more toward my childhood friend, now my enemy, the predator.
Its amazing Parker isn't dead, after all she's been through. Just a few months ago, she was shot while trying to save her father. It was not her first time either. A few years ago she was shot, by Brigitte, while again trying to save her father. Add to that the stress of working at the Centre, and the strain of living under so many lies.it's a miracle she's still breathing.
But Parker's always been a fighter. She always will be.
The sound of a car parking interupts my thoughts. I can tell that it Parker's Porsche Boxter. As with most things of her's, it is sleek and dark. A car door slams echoing into the night, and if I were not on the Blue Cove sand, I would hear her 4 inch stilleto heels stealthily approaching me.
I turn, and watch her cryptically.
She heads for me, her hand at her back. I just stand there, watching.
I'm not surprised that she found me so fast. Parker's been getting better at following my abstract clues.
Most people would look like Raines in a good mood at such an early hour (or late), but of course Parker doesn't. Its nearly 3 in the morning, and she's in a no doubt expensive, gray, business suit. Perfect Centre attire; dark, gloomy, and uninviting. I'd guess she doesn't wear anything else.
Parker reaches me, and draws her gun with a hesitant expression smearing her face. "Jarod." Obviously our last conversation has moved her, or her routine has changed; I'm not cuffed. She gives me a look, almost, sympathetic. I'm tempted to inquire about this Lady Luck.
"Miss. Parker, so kind of you to join me."
"No Jarod, I'm not going to tell you who she is." she says firmly. I crack a guilty grin. She's always been able to read me far too well. She raises one brow, though her eyes are laughing.
"They're calm tonight, Parker." I can see her arguing with herself in her own mind. I think I even see her eyes watering. It has to be the light. That would be my friend I'd be seeing. Abruptly, her head snaps up and her sapphire eyes pierce into my chocolate ones. Almost pleading.
"It doesn't matter, Jarod. I really am sorry." she says while taking a step forward. A mere five inches may seperate us.
I cock my head down to reach her level. "Oh, but it does matter." I say with a compassionate smile.
She reaches out and grabs me by my shoulder, but I brush it off as if it was easy. I start to sprint to my jeep. She'll never catch me in those heels, and she knows it.
I hear her call out for me, "Jarod!" then she thinks I can't hear her and whispers, "Thanks."
I leave her, standing there. I leave her standing there. Even though I want to take her with me, take her away from the Centre, I leave her there.
An hour later I call her from a cheap Blue Cove Motel. The inexpensive ones hold the most ineresting people.
"What do you want now, Jarod."
"You're welcome." She sighs.
"I just. . . I wasn't-"
"You don't need to explain yourself, Parker. I understand, I always have and I always will. Trust in that, Parker. Trust..."
I hang up. I know she would really shoot me if she heard me tell her to trust me.
If only she would trust in it. If only she would trust in me. I know she's been hurt too many times to trust though.
I work every day to help the weak and abused. But I can't help her. The one person I care about most is the one person I can't help. Parker is the most abused person I know, but far from weak. I only wish she'd let me help her. I want to help her. I need to help her. Help her to escape the Centre. I wonder if this is the way things should really be. Guilt overwhelms me when I consider that while I am free, she is trapped still. I need this freedom to find out who I am though. So does she.
But still,
Is my freedom worth Parker's?
Listening for the soothing music of the waves, I hear nothing. Swallowing, I blink once and sigh before I send Miss. Parker my next clue.
Learning to Run Again
Part 3: Courage
Aqua
Heads turned as they felt the presence of power. Backs straightened and hands typed faster. The presence was routine, but its air was always in charge and demanding. Miss Parker tended to come across this way every day. Stilleto heels soon reached the desk she always searched out. She loved the way every head turned her way and the authoritee she held over these people. Standing behind the balding man, her manicured scarlet nails grabbed Broots' shoulders slowly and delibratly. Soon, his coffee was spreading over the keys of his keyboard.
"Mi-Miss. Parker! Oh no. That's the second keyboard this week. You've gotta st-st-stop doing that," he said with only a few stutters. Miss Parker's left eyebrow jutted up in her teasing manner. "Of course, only if y-y-you want to st-stop that, but I re-re-realy th-th-think that it would save The C-c-centre some money and-"
"Shutup Broots. What would save the Centre money, is if we could just find Jarod so that he would stop stealing from us. A keyboard here a coffee there. Big deal, Jarod's losing us a project here, 6.8 million there, and oh look- there goes another car of Lyle's that Frankenboy decided to use for target practice!" She smacked her hand onto the desk for reinforcement. Miss. Parker's replies were always intense and thourough.
"I'm sorry Miss. Parker, was there something you wanted?"
"I want Jarod."
"Uh- anything else?"
"I want you and Sydney to meet me in my office. Jarod has sent me yet another surprise."
"Oh, uh, yea sure. I'll be there as soon as I can. I need to order another keyboard from SL 8. Oh and I'll tell Sydney. Did you want-" he turned in his chair to face her, but realized she had left. A few people were staring at his spilled coffee while the rest were wondering who he was talking to. "I'm switching to decaff," he mumbled under his breath, "Miss. Parker could care to do the same."
*****
Like an eager tiger, Miss Parker eyed the package sitting on her desk. She clicked the pen up and down and then casually dropped it into the pen cup.
"Good morning Miss Parker."
"Where's Broots?"
"He'll be here soon." replied the calm accented voice.
"Well Freud, your pet has sent another goody for us to smash our heads with."
"Excuse me Miss. Parker, but 'pet' is hardly the name for my treatment of Jarod. I didn't treat him like an animal as such." Sydney dared to protest.
"Oh alright, lets look at the treatment that you permited with Jarod. We can start with the fact that you have kept him locked up his entire life, stole him from his family, tested drugs on him, cloned him, ignored his pleas to be told who he was, and refuse to acknowledge the fact that you care about him, or should I say more?" she challenged as she slowly walked toward him until they were face to face.
"I didn't do those things. The Centre did."
Broots entered the room knocking over a stack of documents as he did so. "Oh, s-sorry about that. Am I interrupting something?" he said.
"Pick them up and no you are not interrupting something. Just another of Syd's feeble attempts to discharge all accusation against him."
"Miss Parker, I-" Sydney began.
"Save it, its not worth it."
"Alright, can we open the package Jarod sent us now?"
"Calm down, you look like a kid on Christmas Eve." Miss Parker said as she tore the seal off and opened the flaps. Pulling out a note, she unfolded it and read:
Take a look out your window.
-Jarod
She took three long strides to the window. Staring out, all she saw was the sand and ocean of Blue Cove. Suddenly, the insistent ringing of her desk phone began. Pressing the speaker button, she knew exactly who would have this kind of timing.
"I don't see a thing, Jarod."
"Well, maybe you're not looking hard enough. Its not unnatural for you to miss what is right in front of your eyes, Parker."
Sydney took the discarded note and looked through the glass, "I don't see anything either Jarod."
"Well, hello Sydney. Life is treating you fine?"
"I work at the Centre Jarod. Why bother to ask?"
"So true."
The three heard clattering on the other end of the line and then an abrupt crash.
"What the hell are you doing?" Miss. Parker inquired in her polite way.
"Well, actually I am preparing for my latest pretend. Do you have any idea who Pam is, a chef maybe? It has been bothering me for a while."
"Even if I did know or care I wouldn't tell you, Jarod."
"Hmmm, just as thoughtful as ever. Did you get enough sleep last night, Parker. After all, it was late when we met."
Sydney and Broots' eyebrows rose a notch, but Miss. Parker refused to even achnowledge that they were there.
"Oh yes, isn't four hours of sleep enough for everyone?"
"I wouldn't be the right one to ask," Jarod replied.
"What is the point of this call Jarod? Why am I looking out my window like a lost baboon!?" she growled.
"Think. Think about last night."
"This isn't about those pointless waves again is it?!" Jarod laughed on the other end.
"You tell me, Parker."
"No. I think you should tell me for once! Jarod!" The line was already dead, "He lives to torment me." she muttered as she sank down into her office chair pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Did you and Jarod meet last night, Miss Parker?" Sydney asked.
"That's what Boy Wonder said isn't it!?"
"What happened?"
"What do you think happened? He got away, again!"
"Is that all? Jarod seemed to be in a pretty good mood."
"Of course he was. Have you been listening to anything that I have been telling you? He got away and he just wants to rub my nose in it."
"This is different, Miss Parker. I refuse to believe it was just any meeting."
Miss Parker started to pace back and forth hurridly. "What do you want me to say?" she replied, "Do you want me to say that I let him get away? Do you want me to say that I always let him get away? Do you want me to say that its no coincidence that he has never been captured by me? Is that what you want? Well, Sydney if that's what you want to hear, then there you go. You've heard it" She turned her back to them then and slightly cocked her head to the right.
"I-i-is it true M-m-miss. Parker? Do you really not want J-j-jarod back?" Broots studdered in shock. He had always thought that Miss Parker's loyalty was to The Centre and no one else, including herself. It took her a few minutes to respond, but the words came out slowly, almost cautiously.
"I don't know. I just really don't know, Broots. I'm not sure about anything anymore. As I discover more and more of the lies that this place is built on and all the terrible things that it has done I just sink to its levels. My mother died trying to end all the evil that occurs between these walls, and still, I sacrificed my soul to it. Mama was always so strong, and I try to act like I am. I'm not, I crumbled for this place. I gave in to it."
Sydney's eyes mourned for her, his little girl. He had always had strong feelings for Miss Parker and had always felt her pain, but he never understood the depths of which that pain stabbed her inside.
"Miss. Parker, I don't know what to say. I, I never knew."
"Yeah, well now you do." she whispered.
"You have not commited your soul to The Centre, Miss Parker. Not yet. You still have a chance to get out. A chance for a real life. Its too late for me, but you and Jarod can still have your freedom. It won't be easy, but you can do it."
"No Sydney. I can't. I can't. My father would never permit it."
"This is your life, not his. Forget your father, he has done nothing but caused you pain. He treats you like he treats his sweepers, like a weapon. Leave The Centre, Miss Parker, before its too late."
"Go Miss. Parker. You're just as much a prisoner here as Jarod. Go." Broots added boldly without one studder.
"Excuse me, am I interrupting something?" Lyle had snuck in, in his foxy manner.
"Yes. What do you want, Lyle."
"Now is that any way to treat your own brother?" He flashed one of his fake smiles.
"Well where is a mouse when you need one for that cheesy smile? Give me a break, Lyle, and answer my question."
"Dear old Dad wishes to see you."
"Wonderful." she said as she whisked out of the room leaving a trail of fire in her wake.
"Miss Parker is not in the best of moods today Lyle." Sydney explained.
"Well, notify me if she ever discovers a good mood." He replied before he left as well.
Sydney and Broots exchanged looks before departing as well.
*****
The frosted double glass doors flung open simutaneously and created the path for Miss Parker to enter her father's office. Standing in front of his desk with her hands clasped in front of her, she listened to him finish his conversation. The chair moved up and down with emphasize on every other word.
"I told you that I make the final decision on all projects, Cox. Make sure you next time that you follow my orders not Raines' or else there won't be a next time!" The phone was slammed back into its cradle. Mr. Parker turned his chair and finally noticed his daughter waiting patiently. "Ahh, Angel. I was just finishing up some business."
"The Grim Reaper has been a naughty boy? Imagine such a thing. Remember, I was the one who told you not to trust him, Daddy."
"Mr. Cox will be dealt with."
"What did he do?"
"Its need to know only."
"And I don't. I see. Well Daddy, it seems that I rarely need to know."
"When it pertains to the pursuit of Jarod then you need to know. Otherwise, it will only distract you from the hunt," he explained to her as if she were a four year old, "And speaking of Jarod, how is your latest clue coming along?"
"We're still working on it. I doubt it will lead us anywhere." Her eye contact wandered as she said this.
"That's what I was afraid of," he paused as though he was unsure that he should continue but slowly let the words come, "Ummm, Angel, do you think that you will ever catch Jarod? He is valuable Centre property and we do need him back urgently."
"Why?" The word slipped out before she could stop it and she bit her bottom lip by habit.
"Why? Why?! What kind of a question is that?! We need our property back now because Jarod is costing The Centre money, corrupting my Angel, and we need projects completed!" he calmed down slightly, "Besides that, he is a security risk. Do you know what could happen if he exposed The Centre? We would all be doomed. In fact, I don't know why he hasn't already."
"He needs his answers first, Daddy. And I only asked why because I want to know what he will be doing when I return him."
"Jarod will no longer be your concern when he is returned. You will return to Coorporate and everything will be the way it was. Both of you will be back where you belong-" Miss Parker's eyes shrank and her mouth dropped as she cut in.
"Daddy! You promised me that I would be free as soon as I returned Jarod! It was our deal. You promised." She was obviously in shock that she had been played so easily once again.
"Now Angel, what do you think I'd do without you with me? I need you here. And you will be so much safer and happier here, where you grew up." Mr. Parker's concerned act obviously wasn't having any effect on Miss Parker. She quickly paced the room back and forth while shaking her head.
"Daddy," she began, "All the lies. All the treachary. I just- I just can't take this anymore. I can't live like this. I'm sorry Daddy." Mr. Parker rose behind his desk. His face hardened as he stared at his daughter. He always knew that she was too much like Catherine for her own good.
"Sorry for what?" He enunciated each word slowly and clearly. Parker just shook her head and left the room. The chairman sat back down at his desk and reached for his phone. "Yes, I would like for you to keep an eye on my daughter. I think she might be up to something."
AN: FEEDBACK/RR please!
Aquagirl157@cs.com