Chapter 4 - Jenny
Humans really loved metaphors, didn't they? Sometimes I would think that they didn't even think about it, metaphors were so ubiquitous. Not that Yeerks never used metaphors, of course. We did, but it seemed to me, at least, that we used them less frequently. Perhaps because we had fewer senses, or because unhosted Yeerks had a smaller environment to draw inspiration from, I didn't know. I wondered if other species were the same? I had only ever had a human host, I didn't know.
Humans liked to call coming to care for someone "falling for them." The more I thought about it, the more apt it seemed to me.
I "fell" twice. The second time was gradual, like falling asleep. The first time... the first time was like taking a swan dive off a cliff-incredibly stupid and probably suicidal.
The endless summer finally ended, and my time as an office lackey came to an end. School started again, and as long as the administration was mostly made up of my people, we were at least guaranteed steady employment and enough money to keep from starving. So, at least there was that. But that didn't mean I was done with the Sharing. I just moved from working in the office to being a "mentor"-the front line, so to speak, of recruiting the unsuspecting, the gullible and the desperate. Who thought I would be a good fit for that, I'll never know.
She was there because her roommate wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but didn't want to go alone. I happened to be sitting just behind them while we listened to Ardun Three-One-Six give the Sharing's spiel to the meeting. I think Ardun's approach probably worked very well for certain types. He was a lot more charismatic than most of the Sharing's leaders. He talked like a motivational speaker, wore his hair long, and looked like he couldn't be much more than thirty. I think his host was a youth pastor-a fact that would have explained the sudden influx of junior high-aged kids toward the end of September. Made sense, I guess. The church up the road had its youth group on Tuesdays. That meeting was on a Wednesday. It made Ben sick, but it was essentially what we were there for, too. Not that that probably helped.
Still, all that was to say, Ardun Three-One-Six was good if you wanted earnest enthusiasm. But he was also the sort of person who probably gave a little too much help to the idea that we were a cult.
"They really take themselves seriously, don't they?" The girl in front of me-the stocky blonde, rather than her more wispy-looking friend-turned sideways in her chair to address the girl next to her, so that I could see the arch of one skeptical brow.
The other girl laughed. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I didn't think they'd be so intense."
"Oh well," the blonde said, leaning down to pick up her purse from the floor. "At least we can say we gave it a shot."
"Hey." I'd been leaning back in my chair, lazily contemplating how soon I could escape without looking bad-I had a stack of essays on the French and Indian War waiting for me in the car, thanks-and I thought I could at least make the barest effort. You couldn't get voluntary hosts if they didn't stick around, after all. I was helping. "Some of us get a little too into it, but we're not all wacko, I swear."
The blonde turned around to look at me. "Oh yeah?" But she was smiling at me, apparently amused about something. "How long have you been here?" When I told her about six months, she widened her eyes and asked, mock-seriously, "And did it change your life?"
"Totally," I replied, matching her tone.
She stared at me for an extra second, then laughed. Her friend still looked nonplussed. I soldiered on, anyway. "I mean, we do good stuff, and some people-" I nodded meaningfully at Ardun, who was now holding court amidst a group that was apparently more impressed than these two-"just take it kind of seriously, I guess. Their heart's in the right place, honest." I shrugged. "But you know, you get out of it what you feel like putting in. Most things are like that." I stood. "If you want to come back, I promise we won't make you spend all the time with the crazies." Most knew how to tailor what they said to their audience, anyway.
"Thanks," the wispy brunette cut in, grabbing her friends arm and pulling her towards the exit. "We'll think about it. Come on, Jenny."
The blonde-Jenny-followed, though she smiled back at me, saying, "Yeah. Nice meeting you..."
"Ben," I supplied. "See you around."
The next meeting, Jenny came back. Her friend did not.