In Which Justina is Lost in Her Own Mind

She floated briefly in a dark void, cool and quiet, but she could still feel the pain trying to creep in at the edges. She tried to think. Tried to figure out where she was, but her mind was sluggish. How did I get here? This wasn't possible, none of it. When she started things had been absurd and improbable, but not this level of insane.

I got threatened, that's been where things began to slip sideways into the bizarre.

A thin woman in a gray business suit stood in the high school parking lot, her body guard looming behind her.

"Unfortunately I regret to inform you that Mr. Wells is no longer with us."

Justina had been confused, still trying to reach the next step in the chain to find him.

"Your husband is dead."

Justina was shocked, horrified, and even more confused.

"A computer malfunctioned. He was killed in the explosion and resulting fire."

Justina hadn't believed her, couldn't believe her.

"I hear you're very good at walking, especially when you're leaving."

Justina got angry and that was when the woman began to threaten her. The thin woman seemed to grow even taller and sharper as she calmly and reasonably told Justina exactly what would happen to her if she didn't leave this mystery alone. She proved she knew all sorts of facts about me, but absolutely nothing about who I am. As soon as I got home I started pushing back.

Justina turned around in her dream and sat curled up on her couch, calling everyone she knew who Tom might go to if he was in trouble. The list wasn't long. At least as failed tries go it was short. By the next day I had moved on to asking everyone I knew if they had any clues about his whereabouts. No matter how embarrassing the conversations got she kept trying. Everyday after work she would start again. She wrote lists of people she hadn't asked yet when she was on her lunch break.

Oh god, that was a tedious stretch of time. The next real thing happened... a week after meeting the woman in gray? A long week, but yes, it was just about a week. Justina went into work as usual and was met with shocked stares and a brief summons to her bosses office.

"Ah, Mrs. Wells, ah… I'm sorry to inform you that some information from your, uh, past has, um… come to light. And well, we wont be needing you anymore."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, ah, Ms Jones, from the International Felonies Program stopped by and she told us about some of the, um, well, the truly despicable things you did in Prague and, well, we just can't condone that kind of behavior in an employee. I'm sorry." He kept tugging at his tie and glancing over her shoulder at the open door.

"What exactly am I supposed to have done?"

"Now, no need to get worked up. Um, it's just that, you understand, we can't really keep you here. We are a bank. Even if you can't be tried in this country we can't, um, well… People trust us to take care of their money and I, ah, I need to live up to that trust."

Justina gaped at him. He smiled sickly back at her, tugging at his tie. Her mind was blank. She was sure there was something she should be saying, but all that came out was, "Wha… wh… wha…"

"Mrs. Wells, could you-"

"Are you firing me?"

"Well, um, yes."

"Because some woman told you a tall tale about me?"

"Ms. Jones is a highly decorated government agent and she had plenty of compelling evidence and, well, to be perfectly frank I am horrified that you were aloud to return to this country at all."

"But I've never been to- where did you say? Prague?"

"Please, Mrs. Wells. We are way past this."

"Oh, come on!"

His eyes widened and he scooted back in his chair. "I think it's time you left now, Mrs. Wells."

"No, this is ridiculous. I haven't done anything!"

He gestured at someone behind her frantically. "I, ah, I think it's time you left now Mrs. Wells." He repeated.

"But I haven't-"

A hand grabbed her arm firmly. She looked up. Then up some more. The hand's owner was an extremely large and unfamiliar security guard, and Justina hadn't even heard him come in.

There was a quiet moment. The man, clearly a professional, let her process the situation. Justina stood. She didn't really have a choice.

She glared at her boss. "I want my last paycheck."

He waved his hands vaguely, "It's, um, in the mail."

As she was escorted from the building she heard someone mutter, "Puppies? Really? That's horrible!" But when she looked around she couldn't tell who it had been.

The paycheck never was in the mail though, was it? I didn't think it was. Bastard.

Out the door of the bank and into her own apartment Justina, frustrated and at loose ends, made the most of the only research tactic she had yet to figure out. The google search.

With new information and old she searched Google with every possible combination she could think of. She hit a half-dozen page not found errors.

After a frustrating few minutes she discovered that if she didn't try to open the page and just read the text under the page name she could see something. Apparently International Felonies Program - Main Included the words:

"An important Program with highly trained agents keeping our country safe from dangerous felons who may walk among us. We do our best to find Grifters, Thieves, Murderers, and other unwanted scoundrels who cannot be caught by the regular..."

And International Felonies Program - Personnel did indeed include:

"...And other skills to keep you safe. Deborah Jones: Once a highly trained CIA operative, Ms. Jones left to join us, were she won't be hampered by technicalities and transparent ruses to keep her from protecting the American people from any threat she…"

Since she couldn't copy and paste without clicking through to a nonexistent page, Justina copied it all carefully by hand, something she was grateful for later, and then typed it all up in a carefully organized word document. She had gone to bed not long after midnight feeling hopeful, despite the terrible events of the day. She finally had something to work with, something beyond the echoing nothing she had been calling Tom's name into.

Was that when my mother was almost arrested? No, that happened later, right? After I had found the eviction notice on my door.

She had been leaving home to go grocery shopping when she had seen the sheet of legal paper pinned in the middle of her door telling her she only had six weeks before she had to get out. She had pulled it down and gone inside to read it. In short it said that the building had been bought by a developer. Everyone had to be out by that same deadline.

Justina vaguely knew that in real life she had marched down to the office joining several of her neighbors in an exhausting and profitless argument with a secretary who had less control over the situation than the buildings tenants. She hadn't been aloud to talk to anyone in charge. None of them had.

In her dream though, she set it down on the counter and just when to the store. She was still thinking about the eviction and where she could move into when the cashier said something.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, you card has been declined. Do you have another one we can try?"

"Oh, umm, yeah."

But this one got declined too.

She looked at her shallow reserve of cash and then at all of the items she had on they conveyor belt. "I'll put it back." She said, feeling a lump in her throat.

"I'm sorry." The cashier said, a little helplessly. "You don't need to worry about putting it back. I'll call someone to do it. I'm sorry."

Justina nodded and took the out, escaping before anything else could happen.

She sat in her car for a few minutes before driving to a different grocery store. She knew it was silly, but she did it anyway. In the parking lot she counted her cash. She had $47.38. She had more cash at home, but that was all she ever carried around with her at a time. I'm not sure how long I have to make this last, I'll be careful.

She took her time, comparing prices per weight and sales. Eventually she got two cases of ramen and a flat of 1/2 off cream of mushroom soup. It came to just over $30. She hoped it would last a while. She wished it wouldn't have too.

Once home, Justina began calling around, trying to find a place she could move into. She had no luck. She didn't bother to follow up with the bank or any of her credit cards, she could recognize a pattern when she saw one. Instead she threw herself into her research for the rest of the evening and late into the night. She fell asleep exhausted and frustrated.

She had barely been asleep for two hours when she was jolted awake to her phone playing Cheshire Kitten, her sister's personal ringtone. It was three in the morning.

"Th' hell?" Justina mumbled. She considered just letting Alice leave a message and dealing with it in the morning. Justina hadn't even realized Alice knew 3 in the morning existed. She was more of an "up at the crack of noon" kind of person. Which, Justina's vaguely realized, must mean that it was important.

It took Justina two tries to answer the phone. One eye squinting, the other still closed she sighed and mumbled. "What's wrong, Alice?"

"Oh, god, Tina! It's about mom!"

Justina was suddenly wide awake. The pointy woman in grey's words echoed in her head: I know about your mother and the PTA, and a little incident with a missing cash box that was never brought to the police because 'she's such a nice lady if just a bit forgetful.'

In a much more serious voice she asked again, hoping she was wrong, "What's wrong Alice?"

"The police called the house! They're going to arrest mom!"

"That doesn't make sense they wouldn't call first if they were going to-"

"Justina this is serious!"

Justina had already pulled her coat on over pajamas, "I know, I'm on my way."

Justina had driven straight over there, not even bothering to put on shoes. Her sleeping mind pulled away from the stressful two days that had followed. They had eventually gotten something worked out, her mother was in a nursing home now, and it was all on Alice to pay for it. Justina had been forced to explain about losing her job, and her frozen accounts. She had seen the moment when her sister had decided she was one of the bad guys. The look of disbelieving and disappointed shock on Alice's face would probably stay with Justina for the rest of her life.

Justina settled again in a moment a couple days later. She sat on her living room floor, eating ramen, and continuing her search for Tom, when her computer died and refused to turn back on. She struggled with it for almost an hour before giving up.

She glared at the now useless slab of plastic and wire and felt something give inside her chest. Packing a bag with the notebook she had used to copy down those first bits of information she'd found about the "International Felonies Program", she went to get in her car, but stopped. Both her back tires were slashed and empty. So she turned around and walked the mile and a half to the nearest library. Getting a card took 5 minutes. She made her way to an open computer, sat down and began again. She only had to relocate once, when someone reserved the computer she was at, but otherwise she was able to extend her session every time she approached the one hour limit.

"The library will be closing in 30 minutes." She had been startled that first day hearing a loud voice after so many hours of muted tones.

She flipped through the pages of her notebook, several pages, but not much on them. She sighed and tucked it away in her bag. She stretched her cramped legs, used the bathroom, and went to the front desk.

The young librarian there looked up with a cheerful smile.

"Yes?"

"What are the hours for the library?"

"We open at 9 in the morning and close at 8."

"Thank you."

Justina turned to go but the librarian asked, "You were working pretty hard on something there, did you get it figured out?"

Justina smiled back, a little sickly, "Not really. I might be at this for a while."

"Ah, yes." The librarian said with an innocent wisdom that made Justina's smile twist at the corners. "I understand, well we almost always have some computers open, but I'll save you a spot in the morning if you have a preference."

The unexpected kindness surprised her, "Thank you, if it's not too much trouble, I like the one on the end there."

The computer in question was out of the way and least likely to have people passing or standing behind her back while she searched.

"Yeah, that ones my favorite too." The librarian said cheerfully and she jotted a note on a well used pad of paper. "Can I get a name for this?"

"Yeah, it's Justina Wells."

"Okay, Tina Wells, I should be here in the morning but if I'm not up front here just tell them your name and they'll know you're the one the reserved sign is for."

"No, Justina."

"Okay, just Tina then."

Justina let it go. She had learned a long time ago to just let that one go.

"Thank you," Justina glanced at the librarians name tag, "Maria. I've… It's been... thank you." She was a little annoyed to feel the prickles of tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Of course, Tina. I hope you figure it all out."

Justina nodded, and knowing more words would just make the dampness in her eyes worse, she smiled and left the library. Even walking home in the dark couldn't extinguish the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Although, arriving home to find that her hot water had been turned off did dim her spirits somewhat.

She sighed, at least I still have running water, even if it's cold. She sighed and filled the teapot so she could at least have a little warm water to wash in.

Just in case she also filled every pot and mixing bowl she had with water. It wasn't much, she had left everything at the house with Tom. She had expected to go back, she just wanted him to do something. Come after her, call her, actually talk to her, just something. It had seemed to her that he was always trying to fade away, but she never thought he would just up and disappear. Not without her anyway.

That last message he had left her, he had sounded intensely reasonable, the way he got when he was upset. I think you were right. I think the separation is a good idea.

She had been in Stratford-upon-Avon in a cute two story hotel with Shakespeare quotes framed in every other room. And the worst part was that she had been about to give up. It was wonderful, beautiful, everything she had ever wanted in a trip except… It had felt forced. It wasn't that she wanted Tom with her exactly, she could barely imagine him here, it just felt like she was running away and leaving all her problems half finished and dragging at her. She had packed to go back home, and was planning to look into moving her flight two weeks earlier.

She had run scenarios over and over in her head. How she would find him and what she would say. What he would say. Inviting him to join her. The way she would seem unconcerned but not dismissive. And finally, finally they would go on one of the trips they had talked about since high school. Or that she had talked about. She had come to notice over the years that Tom had never had much to say about them, except to make excuses for why he couldn't this time.

Waking up she had seen a missed call on her cell and a voice mail from an unfamiliar number. Expecting a scam call she made herself coffee before listening to the message. Her heart had leapt when she heard his voice, "I think you were right. I think the separation is a good idea." And sank when she heard his words.

She listened to the message again. Then deleted it. Then she unpacked. There was no way she was going back now. If she did, then everything would go back to how it had been. That endless monotony. And she could just imagine the smug grin he would get if she came back now on his terms.

She had walked across town and bought an expensive ticket for a play she couldn't remember the name of and sat for two hours watching highly trained and chosen actors say lines and move through a performance that got a standing ovation. And then she returned to her hotel room and stared at the ceiling trying to remember any of it. She had tried to pretend everything was wonderful and waited for him to apologize.

But he hadn't. And when she had broken down and finally called home no one answered. Again the next week. And the next. That was when she had begun to worry.

She'd eventually called the high school, the woman in the office told Justina that Tom wasn't there, that he had gotten another job, and when she tried to ask were he had gone all she got was non-answers. They assured her they would call her back as soon as they heard anything. But they hadn't and as her calls became more frequent, the answers she received became shorter and no more informational.

Eventually she had tried to go in person. That coward of a principle had tried to turn her away and that was when she met the sharp woman in the gray suit.

She had always hoped he would go off somewhere, she just wanted it to be because she finally got him out of the house. Out of the safety of his life. That was the problem really. It was like he had always thought that as long as he didn't try to do anything he could still potentially be great at it. So he never did anything at all in order to never fail. And now he finally had done something. He had left the school, disappeared, and something was very wrong. Her gut told her that.

If he had gotten into this mess because of her… Her mind shied away from the thought. No, it didn't make sense anyway. If she could inspire him to disappear into danger then she would have been able to inspire him to take a short trip anywhere but here.

The teapot whistled and she shook her head. She had to figure out how to get decently clean in a bowl of warm water.

I got good at that eventually, and it wasn't long before I found my bike at a thrift store.

It had cost twenty dollars from her emergency fund. It was a shitty bike, but she wouldn't have to walk alone in the dark. Riding to the library took less time than she expected, and she made it there safely despite the jerky rear brake, which she had not expected. She took a moment on a bench outside waiting for the library to open. She took a deep breath. Then another. And somehow she found herself crying. She wasn't proud of it but she thought for a moment about just giving up. Just for a moment though. I could tell them they won. I could… but they wouldn't get mother's job back or my apartment back. And I still wouldn't know where he was.

She was saved from further spiraling when the library door was unlocked. And so began the pattern of the next few weeks. Up early, ride to the library before it opened, research what she could until it closed, go home cook something easy, premake food for the next day and look through her notes for any new clues. Sleep. Wake up, and repeat.

After a while she realized she had found everything she could by poking at the surface of the internet. If she wanted to find anything new she was going to have to change tactics and learn some less legal ways of viewing information. So she got a new notebook and started to research computers and internet weaknesses. She didn't have access to a lot of the tools she learned would make breaking into places she wasn't supposed to be able to see easier, and she couldn't download them onto a library computer, even if she knew she would always be at the same terminal. So she focused on what she could do anyway. Things that used the address bar, things that involved taking advantage of human predictability.

It was hard, she had to keep looking up terms she didn't recognize, and decipher instructions from people who expected you to already know a lot more than she did, and people who didn't seem to know how to use punctuation. But she finally felt like she was making progress and this notebook filled much more quickly.

Justina found herself becoming annoyed with things that had always been in the background. Her hair kept getting in her eyes when she was researching. She no longer felt like she had the time in the morning to do any of the things she used to do to manage it. One night she took a pair of scissors to it. She just kept cutting until it was entirely out of her way. She refused to look at it in the mirror until the next morning.

She tried to even it out a bit, and it wasn't the worst haircut she had ever had, but she eventually pulled a knit cap on before heading out. No one mentioned it and it didn't get in her eyes anymore so she soon forgot about it.

Besides after that mugger right outside the library I had more important things to worry about.

It had been a day just like any other day. Justina left the library heading for her bike when a man suddenly appeared in the floodlight's glow. He knocked her down and grabbed for her bag. She clung to it and stabbed him in the shin with the pencil she hadn't put away yet. He yelled and kicked her and then limped quickly off because one of the few other people leaving the library started yelling that they were calling the police. Someone helped her to her feet.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She nodded, pulling away as soon as she had her balance.

"Do you need a ride somewhere? The hospital?"

"No thank you. I'm fine, just a little surprised."

He looked like he didn't believe her, but Justina didn't care. She hadn't let go of her bag and she was backing toward the bike rack. She wasn't going to trust someone just because he had helped her up, not when she knew that someone powerful wanted her to stop being a nuisance. She was a little afraid of how they might react if she actually learned anything real, but she didn't let that stop her from pushing. She hurt, she would have a nasty bruise later. She just wanted to go home and hide. Maybe plan for next time. She unlocked her bike with shaking hands and rode quickly back to her apartment. She hid under her blankets for a while like a kid until she stopped shaking.

It was hard, but she didn't let herself stop going. She carried her keys in between her fingers in a stabby manner every time she went outside now. Each day with out incident it was a little easier.

Days passed, then weeks and then Xanaria… Ah, yes. That's where I was...