Resolute (part one)

After the haircut, the shopping, laundry, and one more downpour, Res wrapped up the weekend. She ran a hot bath and scurried to the mantle to retrieve the fox, undressing one item at a time and tossing each on the floor on the way back to the bathroom. She lived alone, and if she didn’t care, nobody cared about wet clothing littering the floor. Steam was already fogging up the mirror and she glanced at her blurry reflection for a second as she passed it, closing the door behind her to keep the heat in. One foot at a time, she eased into the hot water, while deliberately lowering herself down with her left hand on the edge of the tub. Had to keep the right hand high and dry as she didn’t want a soggy fox. The water was just the right temperature. Within a few minutes as she acclimated to it, she felt her feet start to wrinkle. It was such a specific feeling; she closed her eyes for a moment and leaned into it as she slid deeper under the water’s surface. “I could sleep here,” she thought as she brought her knees above the waterline and watched the steam evaporate from her legs. She turned her attention to the vaguely foxlike origami, squeezed her left hand on the towel to mostly dry it, and carefully unfolded it again. With the heat and the moisture it practically unfolded itself, and there she saw Dec’s message.

I need to see you again. Call me. – DEC

There seemed to be a tone here. Not, I want to see you again. Not, maybe we should meet for drinks. This was something else. That realization was a little disappointing, because she had hoped it would be a little less business and a little more friendly. But here she was, steaming in a hot bath, and the only thing on her mind was Dec, and the stingingly pleasant heat of the tub. It wasn’t a coincidence. Subconsciously, she hated to admit it, but she was alone and lonely at the same time. She wouldn’t mind spending time with someone besides a coworker, and a vet is probably a total mess of a friend, so no, it didn’t make a lot of sense. But many things in life started that way. A bad idea, a risk, a step into the unknown, a leap of faith, a blind date. She realized she was talking herself into it, remembering cheesy maxims like “you fail 100% of the things you never try”.  But was she being commanded to call Dec, or was she tricking herself into thinking it was her idea, and maybe even a good idea? It didn’t matter at this point, she decided to call Dec tomorrow and get it over with, whatever it was. She tossed the paper as far as she could from the tub, and although it flew about as well as half a donut, it landed clear of the drip zone.

She dunked her head under the water briefly to help rinse away the little hair shavings that always seem to stick around after a fresh haircut before going through the rest of the shampoo/conditioner routine. People had told her, many times before, that her hair was so shiny and thick, it must be some ancient beauty routine and if she could just explain it and save the universe. Truth was, Res always had good hair, even as a child. Genes. Being born half Dutch and half Thai was a little fortunate here since she inherited her eyes and hair color from her father and her “shine” from her mother. None of that black on black that, while attractive in its own right, made average Asians look absolutely cloned by comparison. Res felt like some special hybrid that got the best of both worlds, and just enough madness from the Dutch side to enhance her creativity and inquisitive nature. Above all else, she was American; an experiment, in an experiment of a country, which was usually united under the same flag.

Her Dutch father had met her mother on a trip to Bangkok for business, where the airport workers were striking during his scheduled flight back. He meandered through the streets trying to avoid the tourist traps and sex bars, finally stopping off in a coffee shop where he was greeted in perfect English by a stunning woman that looked about 10 years younger than she was. Noticing he was taken aback, she teased him a bit, smiling, saying “I also speak fluent Thai if you prefer, ling khaow”. He didn’t speak much Thai, but he heard a lot of “ling” on a tour of the jungle once, and he knew it meant monkey, or aap in his native tongue. The ridiculousness of the sentence was clever; a little insulting, friendly, and playful, all at the same time. He was immediately charmed. He cracked a smile, tilted his head forward to peer over the top of his sunglasses, and replied simply, “English is fine, but hold the bananas”, in his well-practiced accent.

That was most of the story she had been told; at the very least, her favorite part. It seemed like fate, with a few chances, a few risks taken, working itself into this one-in-a-million chance, complete with aligned stars. The output of which comfortably soaked as the water slowly cooled, and pondered the past and the future. Maybe it was time for her to see what fate had in store, she thought. That cemented her decision to contact Dec the next day. As she began to drain the tub and dry off, she reached for the lotion and slathered it damn near everywhere. The fountain of youth in a bottle, as her mom liked to say. To be honest, neither of them probably even needed a single drop; it was just insurance.

The next day, after a mostly uneventful day at the office, Res stared blankly at her comms device. It was waiting. He was waiting. So what was the hold up? She felt like some step was missing. What was it she was supposed to do besides call Dec and meet with him? An idea slowly formed, a memory of a thought. Sheepdog. She was supposed to talk to Sheep first and check on his progress. He was on to something and it totally slipped her mind. She decided to call Sheep instead.

“Hello? Res?”, Sheep answered immediately, and she could barely hear what had to be background noise as he traveled along on the train. “Yeah, it’s me. I felt like we needed to sync up on what you’ve been chasing down. Any luck?”. Sheep filled her in with most of the details about his ghost hunting trip, careful to not say too much in public but getting the points across. “So basically,” Sheep said, “I think maybe I was in the right place at the right time. Things mostly added up, but I hit a wall. There was a man, the Relaxed Man, wearing some crazy outfit. No, I couldn’t make out his face, that was covered too. But the outfit, the suit, there’s something there.” Res paused for a moment as she soaked up his story. “Optical camo? That’s just a theory. The military has been trying to crack that for 50 years. If anyone has done it…”, and Res trailed off, pondering the implications. A singular individual that cracked the code, figured out the impossible, however unlikely, would change the world, at least for a while. The entire court system was based on video footage. If it wasn’t filmed, it didn’t happen, as far as most judges were concerned. This was dangerous, if true. “Not another word about this to anyone, Sheep. Not like this. Do you know what you could be walking in to? ASE’s have trained on this footage for years, but you’re the only one that has gotten this close.” Sheep was quiet for a moment. He was so dug in to solving a problem, he never stopped to consider the outcomes. The implications, the possibilities. He was beginning to put 2 and 2 together, and he felt a cold sweat begin to form on his palms and forehead. “I…I feel like a fool,” Sheep stammered to break the silence, “how did I not predict this? I missed the forest for the trees. I was right there, right there, and I’m sure the Relaxed Man saw me with the doorman, dressed up in Sendai gear to disguise my identity.”

Res cooly replied, “Well for now, I wouldn’t worry too much, you’re very forgettable. Wearing a service costume added a valuable layer to your little charade. That was smart. Nobody ever remembers people in service gear, it’s almost like optical camo all by itself. Tell me, can you remember the face of the last elevator repairman you walked past? Or the janitor entering the restroom? Sure, you may remember macro details, like if he was tall or short, skinny or fat, but honestly, what about that person’s face?” Sheep silently nodded in agreement. She had a point. Everyone acknowledged the plumber, or the elevator guy, or the electricians, but they never remembered their faces. Strange realization. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, Res, then it’s working. Maybe I was just as anonymous as that man was. A uniform with no face, no identity. The cameras saw, of course, but the people might have ignored me. I know at least one person who intentionally forgot me, and is 100 credits richer as a result.” Res felt her hair stand up on her neck, like a cold breeze suddenly descended on her. “Wait, you bribed the doorman? Oh shit. That could be a problem”, Res said, a little more nervously. “Do you think so? I mean, I feel like I’m in some trouble all of a sudden, are we catching up or are you spooking me for fun?”, Sheep said. “No, I’m not spooking you on purpose. I just feel like when you slid money across his palm, it changed the energy of the whole bit. What kind of service guy, ‘just checking on things’, bribes the doorman for logs and again to forget he was even there? You broke cover…at least with him. I don’t want to continue this over comms. This is serious”, Res said, this time, more seriously. “I hear you,” Sheep said, “loud and clear. I gotta go, my stop is next. Bye.” Before he could end the call, Res already had.

…more later