Within seconds, the room was filled with several other agents, including one named Agent Griffin who came armed with a huge tablet and a stylus. She drilled me for information about what I had seen, every detail about the van, the people in it, the masks they wore, everything. I didn’t remember all that much at first, but she prompted and cajoled me: What were the seats made out of? What did the dome light look like? Did you see the handles on the doors? What kind of bumper? What kind of fabric were the masks? What was his voice like? I was surprised at how many details came back to me, and I wondered how much of it was memory and how much was imagination. But every detail went into the sketches she was creating, and she seemed pleased with the progress.
DeWitt stayed next to me but didn’t say a word.
Ralphs retreated, leaning against the wall, letting her colleagues do their jobs. But when the van on the screen began to take shape, she stepped forward to get a better look.
“Ford,” she said. “Late-model Econoline DVX.”
Griffin tapped the stylus onto the upper right corner of the screen, and a keyboard appeared. She typed with one hand and an image of a truck appeared, three-dimensional, floating in front of a white background. With her stylus, she grabbed one of the fenders and moved the vehicle around, rotating it so I could see all the angles. Then she looked up at me. “Does that look like it?”
“I think so,” I said. “But I can’t really say for sure.”
I wondered again about memory versus imagination, but Ralphs seemed sure of herself as she snapped her fingers and pointed at two of the other agents. “Get that picture and description out there,” she said. “Now.”
They both bolted for the door and a new agent stepped in to whisper something in Ralphs’s ear.
She nodded, her face solemn, and turned to the remaining agents. “Please clear the room,” she said, and they filed out, so it was just Ralphs, DeWitt, and me.
Ralphs sat in the chair to my left and put a hand on my wrist. I knew that meant there was bad news, but before I could predict it, she said, “We got official word. I’m afraid there were no survivors from the blast.”
DeWitt stiffened and put a hand on my other wrist.
“I’m sorry,” Ralphs said softly. “For both of you.”
We sat quietly while DeWitt and I got ourselves together. Ralphs didn’t try to rush us, which was nice of her. After a minute, I said, “Okay, what now?”
Ralphs cleared her throat, once again all business as she resumed questioning me, mostly asking over and over, but in slightly different ways, what exactly Cronos had said to me. Each time she jotted down notes, but as time went on, she jotted less and less frequently, until finally, she put down her pen and rubbed her eyes.
“Are we done?” I asked. My brain felt wrung out, like a sponge. I stifled a yawn.
Ralphs nodded. “For now we are. I’d like to follow up with you again in the next day or so.” She collected her things and stood.
I nodded back, relieved. DeWitt and I stood, as well. “So who is he?” I asked. “Cronos, I mean. Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t,” she said, her face hardening as she moved to the door. “But I look forward to meeting him. According to our intelligence, he’s the head of CLAD. We’ve busted several CLAD cells in Connecticut, Boston, Baltimore, and DC, which we hope puts a sizeable dent in what we believe is a relatively small organization. But none of them will talk, and we haven’t been able to get close to this…Cronos person.” She thought for a moment, then added, “I don’t know what your plans are for tomorrow, but you might want to stay away from those protests. I don’t expect the convention will be cancelled, even after what just happened. Things could get a lot uglier.”
Ralphs led us out of the interview room and into the hallway, where Rex and my mom were waiting, looking agitated.
I smiled at the sight of them, incredibly glad to see each of them and amused at the thought of them sitting there together. They both shot to their feet when they saw me, Rex towering over my mom, making her look tiny.
DeWitt glanced at her watch, and for an instant her face was suffused with stress. “I’ve got to go,” she said close to my ear. “You did great in there, Jimi. Why don’t you take a few days off, okay? With everything that’s happened, the news about Myra and Davey…the office is going to be…” She paused for a moment, collecting herself. “Anyway, you’ve just been through a lot and I think it would be good if you took some time to process it. I have to take some depositions in DC on Monday anyway, so I won’t even be in the office until Wednesday. But call if you need me. I’ll be checking in for messages. Take care of yourself, okay? And stay out of trouble.”
Before I could reply, she had turned and said hello to Mom and Rex as she hurried past them toward the elevators.
I bear-hugged Mom first, because I knew she’d feel hurt otherwise, but I locked eyes with Rex and held them the whole time.
“Oh, Jimi,” Mom said. “I was so worried.”
“I’m okay, Mom,” I whispered. “I’m fine.”
Rex managed an impressive imitation of patience as he waited for my mom to let me go.
I pulled away from her before she was quite done—I got the feeling that otherwise she would have just kept holding on. My eyes were still on Rex’s, right up until we kissed and I closed them, absorbing the comfort and relief from his arms as they wrapped around me. I pulled him tight and pressed myself against the mass of his body.
“You okay?” he said into my hair.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Really.” My eyes watered as I said it, though, as thoughts and images of the bombing came back to me.
“I was so scared,” he said.
“I was, too,” I said, softly enough that I hoped my mom couldn’t hear me.
We got onto the elevator, the two of them crowding me, one on either side. As we walked through the lobby, I told them both what had happened. My mom blanched, and Rex’s face turned stony when I told them about being abducted.
“Abducted?” Mom said, actually putting a hand over her mouth in horror.
“Holy crap, Jimi,” Rex said. “Who—”
“No, no—not actually abducted,” I backtracked, trying to tone down the seriousness of the conversation. “Waylaid, whatever. I don’t know who it was. It was only for like, ten or fifteen minutes.”
I kept talking, trying to downplay my kidnapping to get them past that part of the story, but when I got to the part about the explosion, and they realized how close I’d come to being in it, their reactions became even more extreme.
“But I’m fine,” I said, reassuring them both as we stepped out onto the street. I was shocked that the sun was still high, burning bright and hot. So much had happened, I had somehow assumed it would be almost evening.
“I need to call Doc,” I said suddenly. “I need to let him know I wasn’t there.”
“I told him,” Rex said. “He knows. I let everyone know.”
“We need to talk about all this, Jimi,” said my mom shakily. “You need to tell me what happened. But first, I think I should take you to see Dr. Simmonds. You’ve been through hell today.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.” Dr. Simmonds was great and I’d known her forever, but apart from the fact that I really was fine, she was a pediatrician, and the last thing I wanted was to be treated like a little kid.
“Well, we need to get you some food, then,” she said, determined to find relief in focusing on the safe and mundane.
“Mom, no. No thanks,” I said. “I’m really just tired.”
She reached up and cupped my cheek, seeming to snap out of it a little. “Of course. You must be exhausted. Let’s get you home and we’ll deal with everything else after you rest, okay?” She turned to Rex. “Maybe you’d like to come over in a bit? I’m making dinner. Trudy’s coming, too.”
Rex smiled and opened his mouth, almost certainly about to politely and charmingly accept the invitation. But before he could, I said, “Um, Mom? Actually, think I want to go to Rex’s now.” I turned to Rex. “If that’s alright with you.”
My mom’s expression froze for a second, and Rex’s mouth hung open.
“Um, yeah—yes, of course,” he said, looking back and forth rapidly between my mom and me. “I mean…if…sure.”
I felt bad. I knew how worried Mom was, but I really didn’t want to go home and have her fuss over me. I wanted to be with Rex. I needed to be with Rex. I’d witnessed death and loss, up close and personal, and I wanted to feel life up close and personal, too. I knew going home and having dinner with Mom and Aunt Trudy would be comforting in a way—and I was glad Mom would have Trudy to comfort her—but I also knew the two of them peppering me with questions wasn’t going to be restful at all.
I could tell Mom was unsettled by my decision, and sad. I was sad, too, and not just because of death and loss. Because of time.
Time passing is sad. Growing up and growing old and dying, there’s sadness in all of it. And realizing you aren’t your kid’s go-to for comfort had to be hard, too, and I was sorry about that. But it’s also a part of that kid growing up.
“Oh,” my mom said, trying to hide her dismay as she accepted what I was telling her, and maybe what she could and could not control.
Rex and I had been together a while now. We were both seventeen. My mom knew we were no longer just holding hands. She and I had had plenty of “safe sex” talks over the years, and she knew how seriously I took that. We’d also had one excruciatingly awkward and roundabout conversation where I had to reassure her once again that chimera splices were somatic, not germline, meaning they didn’t affect the genes that were passed down from generation to generation. She had already known everything I told her, but she needed reassurance that if Rex and I slipped up—or even if we just held hands for ten years then got married—there wouldn’t be any grand puppies in her future.
But as much as she must have known the status of my relationship with Rex, I knew she didn’t want to have to acknowledge it—particularly on top of everything else that had happened today.
“Okay I’ll see you at E4E tomorrow, though, right?” she said. Both my mom and Trudy had become regular volunteers at E4E, which was really great. The next day was Saturday, and Mom, Trudy, and I were all signed up to stuff envelopes.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Especially considering what happened today. We’ll be at the protests beforehand, but then we’ll be there.”
“Okay,” she said with a tight smile. “I wish you wouldn’t go to the protests, Jimi. But I understand. You be careful out there, okay? Both of you.”
I kept Ralphs’s similar admonishment to myself and gave her a peck on the cheek. “We will.”
She cupped my face once more, then looked around for her car.
“Where are you parked?” Rex asked. “Can we walk you to your car?”
She looked up at him and smiled, “No, that’s okay, sweetie. It should be here any second.” She turned to me, having regained her composure. “You kids just…be safe. And take good care of each other.” That’s what her mouth said, but her eyes were reminding me to be careful, in every way.
I nodded and she nodded back.
Her car pulled up next to us, empty. She started opening the door, but paused, like she was going to say something else. “Hey,” she said as she got in the car. “Why don’t you hop in and I’ll give you a ride. Silver Garden is practically on the way home.”
“Um…” I wanted to say no, to bring this whole awkward scene to an end, but realized it made sense. It would be safer, given how crazy the day had been so far, and it would make my mom feel better, as well. I glanced at Rex, and he shrugged, making it clear this was my call. “Sure, Mom. That would be great.”
I got in the front and Rex stretched out across the back seat. We didn’t talk much on the way, except for Rex giving Mom directions. I felt relieved when we pulled up outside Rex’s apartment.
“Is this it?” Mom said, looking around, checking out the neighborhood. It was far from ritzy, but it wasn’t dangerous. She seemed more or less satisfied that at least there weren’t any suspicious white vans around.
“Yup,” Rex said. “I’m up on the third floor.”
I felt Rex inhale, as if he was going to speak again, and for a terrible moment I knew he was going to invite my mom in. I totally appreciated the impulse, but I couldn’t imagine anything more awkward.
“Okay, well, thanks Mom,” I said quickly, to cut him off.
“Of course, Jimi.” She sat back and I leaned over to give her a hug.
As we got out, Rex said, “Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Corcoran.”
She gave him a smile, then turned back to me. “Be careful, okay? And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then she waved and drove off.
I grabbed Rex’s arm and we started walking toward the door.
“Well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” Rex said sarcastically.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. And I’m glad you’re coming over, I just…I didn’t know. And I didn’t know she was, um…cool with it.”
“‘Cool with it’ might be an overstatement. But she’s getting there. I think the bigger issue right now is that she wants to take care of me.”
I felt sad saying it out loud, and I felt bad for Rex, not having a mom to worry about him. I mean, yeah it could be a pain, but it was also nice. He was taking his keys out of his pocket but he seemed to notice me looking at him. “What?”
“You okay?” I asked.
He laughed. “Me? Why do you ask?”
I shrugged, not wanting to bring it up if he wasn’t already thinking about it.
He kissed the top of my head. “I’m not the one who was abducted and almost blown up. If you’re okay, I’m okay.” He paused, serious again. “…Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. It’s not like I knew Calkin or any of the others, really. But still.” I swallowed hard, trying not to picture Calkin lying dead at my feet. “I’m still processing it, I guess. All those people.”
“I know,” he said softly. Then he opened the door and we went inside.