My custody hearing begins tomorrow, and I can't sleep.
GenetiTech put us up in the Hyatt-Regency, the same hotel where I met my mother less than two weeks previously. Rachel informed us proudly when we checked in that it was the same hotel that the president stayed in when he visited the D/FW area. I'm not sure if she meant the president of GenetiTech or of the United States.
In the darkness, somewhere out there beyond the cardboard walls of my shoebox accommodations, Paul is snoring like a goddamn chainsaw. It's only a matter of time before Naomi nudges him angrily and tells him to roll over. It's happened four times already, and I fully expect it to continue until the morning.
So I lie there on my green sponge bed, staring wide-eyed into the darkness and letting my mind drift. I think of sweet little Nicole, who is at home with Naomi's sister Debbie. She's been my sole friend and confidant this past week, something I desperately needed. I also find myself thinking about poor Suzy, and all that she has suffered for the sin of loving me. Other faces flit through my mind... my friends at SPECTRUM - Alan, Louise, Gary, Sally, Leslie - will I ever see them again?
I think of my mother, but have trouble remembering her face as I saw it last. When I try to envision her, all I can come up with is the picture from the National Mirror where she's holding me in the palm of her hand. For years, that was the only connection I had to my mother, and it seems so much real to me than that nervous, aged woman I met eleven days ago.
"Goddammit Paul," Naomi growls, and I hear a muffled slap. "Roll over." My father rolls over with a snort and a mumble, and the room is mercifully quiet. If I'm going to get to sleep, I'd better do it in the next fifteen minutes, before the snoring starts again...
After my ill-fated meeting with Suzy at the Sand Dollar Motor Lodge last Wednesday, I was more than ready to return home to the Daltons. To be perfectly honest, the idea of spending even another minute with Rachel Foster was enough to turn my stomach.
Unfortunately, Rachel wasn't ready to relinquish me just yet. There was so much we needed to take care of before the hearing, and she felt they needed to be handled before the Inside Line story aired that night. Because once that cat was out of the bag, there were going to be reporters and photographers crawling all over the town of Stasheff.
Personally, I still think her reasoning was a load of crap. She knew I was bitter about the stunt she had pulled with Suzy, and she wanted to make damn sure she'd managed to control the damage before she dropped me off. She wanted to be certain that I was still on board, and wasn't planning on doing anything crazy that might jeopardize the custody hearing.
I was more than angry with her. At this point, I truly hated her. More than Naomi, more than Cheryl... if I could have, I would have happily killed her. But when you're the size of an action figure, your options for vengeance are severely limited.
So I pretended to acquiesce to her. I did it grudgingly and a bit spitefully, because I knew she'd immediately suspect a total change of heart. Rachel promised to help me smooth things over with Rachel when the hearing was over, and I pretended to believe her.
We spent the entire afternoon meeting with Cindi Martinez, first chair attorney for the Daltons in the matter of Dalton v. Miller. She and the rest of her firm began operating out of a rented office in downtown Stasheff back in April, coincidentally just two weeks before my father Paul Dalton obtained their services. The fact is, they're crack members of GenetiTech's own legal team, and I have no doubt it was them that approached my father, instead of the other way around.
Ms. Martinez droned on and on about all kinds of things I didn't really understand. Diminished capacity, special needs, etc. To tell the truth, I couldn't really concentrate. My mind was on Suzy.
"If we're lucky, you won't be called to testify," she said. "However, there's a pretty good chance SPECTRUM will call you if they think it will help their case. So you should be prepared."
She rummaged through a stack of papers and found a couple of pages stapled together. She flipped back and forth between them, then looked at me.
"I'm not going to write your testimony down, because we don't want you rehearsing it," she told me. Her fingernails were long, French-manicured and they drummed relentlessly on her oak desk as she spoke. "We've been working on several approaches simultaneously, but with the Inside Line story broadcasting tonight, we've decided to capitalize on all the anti-SPECTRUM press."
"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade," Rachel said in a voice so devoid of inflection that it was almost funny.
"No one expects you to lie, Ray," the attorney continued. "I know you still bear some affection for your former wardens, and I fully expect that to come out in your testimony. We intend to play it off as brainwashing, just another in SPECTRUM's long line of atrocities."
"They didn't brainwash me," I told her, glaring up into her brown eyes. She was wearing glasses with thick, black frames that made her look severe and intimidating. I wondered if they were prescription, or just an affectation.
"Of course, you'll make that claim. Which of course just goes to show how effective their brainwashing techniques were. Let's face it, Ray. Your mother sold you to a lab and let them perform experiments on you. No judge in the world is going to believe this was in your best interests."
"Why are we even having this hearing?" I asked. "Didn't you guys already bribe a judge or something?"
Ms. Martinez looked amused. "He's got a mouth on him, doesn't he?"
"He's going to keep it in check during the proceedings," Rachel said. She poked me in the back with her index finger and added, "Aren't you?"
I nodded miserably, and Cindi Martinez continued. "The crux of our case is going to be our portrayal of your life with the Daltons. It's the first time you've ever lived in a true family, and you're very happy with them. They're very good to you, and they make you feel safe and secure. But SPECTRUM still has an unhealthy hold on you as well, which is why you're so conflicted..."
"I'm not conflicted!" I shouted at her. "I hate the fucking Daltons!"
Rachel said coldly, "If you expect my help in patching things up with Suzy, you'd better..."
"Fuck you," I screamed, whirling to face her. "How stupid do you think I am?"
Rachel's fingernails grasped me by the collar of my shirt, and lifted me awkwardly into the air. I hung helplessly in front of her face, which was no longer cold and dispassionate. She actually looked pissed, which terrified me beyond reason.
"Your little friend Suzy is very vulnerable, Ray. The only reason she's still alive is because, up to this point, you've been a team player. I suggest you get your head in the game, before the little bitch winds up raped and murdered."
I was hyperventilating, unable to take in enough air. The entire room seemed to be spinning, and my heart was pumping so hard it felt like it was going to punch a hole in my chest. It was so warm, and the air was thick with the smell of Rachel's perfume.
"Next week, you will be GenetiTech property," she told me through clenched teeth. "Say goodbye to Suzy, and say goodbye to SPECTRUM. When you're spending your days with Dr. Taylor and your nights with Naomi, you're going to be in desperate need of a friend. And I may very well be your only hope, so don't go burning that bridge. Understand?"
I nodded weakly. Rachel set me back down on the desk and I laid there in a huddle, weeping. Ms. Martinez sat patiently, drumming her fingernails and waiting for me to regain my composure. When I finally had my tears under control, she continued prepping me and I listened, reluctantly and bitterly.
At some point, they brought in this morbidly obese woman to measure me for some new suits. The idea, Ms. Martinez explained, was to display me looking my best, so the judge could see just how beneficial living with the Daltons had been. I was ordered to strip naked, and this woman took my measurements. Rachel and Ms. Martinez watched with some amusement as the woman manipulated me with her fat fingers to get the dimensions of my inseam and waist. Finally, the entire humiliating incident was over. The woman promised to have my clothes ready by the weekend, and I was allowed to dress.
At around six, Ms. Martinez sent one of the clerks out to pick up some chicken for dinner. I can't even begin to convey the horror of watching these two immense women tearing meat from the bone, smacking loudly and licking their lips. Rachel offered me a small piece of chicken, insisting I eat it off of the tip of her finger. I wasn't hungry, but I managed to choke it down to avoid offending her any further.
They finally decided to call it a day at a quarter of eight. Rachel carried me down to the limo, and asked Oswald to just drive around aimlessly for a while. At eight o' clock, she switched on the little TV in the back of the limo so we could catch the Inside Line broadcast. I watched the entire thing while straddling her foot, clinging to the nylon and vainly trying to ignore her slowly wiggling toes.
Finally, sometime after nine, Rachel apparently decided my spirit had been broken enough. The sad thing is, she was pretty much right. I'd like to say I was only faking to keep her off guard, but in truth she had succeeded in dashing my hopes. For the first time, I was truly forced to face the facts that soon I would belong to GenetiTech.
So last night, she brought me home and had another little talk with Naomi about leaving me alone. When she left, Naomi stormed over and did her best to dishearten me. But she was too late. Rachel had already done a bang up job, and Naomi couldn't possibly make me feel any worse. Frustrated by my lack of reaction, she stomped off angrily to bed.
And me? I pretty much cried myself to sleep. But you already know all that.
The fallout from the Brenda Benoit story on Inside Line began the next morning. I was already awake, but didn't really feel like facing the day ahead. Depressed, exhausted... I really can't say. Just weary, I suppose. I didn't have a reason for getting up, so I decided to just stay in bed.
Debbie was still giving me wide berth after her run-in with GenetiTech's snipers last week. She'd hardy even looked at me since that phone call. As usual, she went out on the back porch for her morning "smoke," and I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to listen to her pace around in those annoying sandals for at least fifteen minutes.
So imagine my surprise when I heard her scream! She let loose with a string of profanity and ran back into the house, slamming the back door behind her. "There's some pervert with a camera out there," she shouted at me.
At about half past eight, the phone started ringing and it didn't stop all afternoon. Poor Debbie got more and more flustered with each call, telling the person on the other end that Paul and Naomi weren't there, and she really couldn't answer their questions.
The doorbell rang, and Debbie peered through the peephole. She turned and pressed her back to the door, a panicked look on her face. "There must be a million of them out there," she said nervously, as she slid down to the floor. "Why can't they just go away?"
Nicole came running into the living room in her sleep shirt, all excited. "What's going on out there?" she asked, a gigantic grin on her face. "There's a big crowd outside!"
"Paparazzi," I told her. "Reporters. They're here to get a picture of America's favorite new urban legend."
"Cool!" Nicole said, clapping her hands. "Are we going to be in People?"
The doorbell rang again, and Debbie spit out another list of swear words as she climbed to her feet and looked through the peephole again. This time she sighed in relief and opened the door.
"Morning," Rachel said, walking in. She was followed by two men in non-descript black suits and sunglasses. I didn't recognize either of them, but they were dressed just like her driver Oswald.
"Looks like we've had a little excitement here this morning," Rachel said. "Eastwood and Kenner are here to make sure it doesn't happen again." The two men nodded in agreement, then turned and walked out the front door.
"They'll keep the crowd away," Rachel said. "They're quite efficient."
"What about the phone?" Debbie asked, her voice still shaking. "It hasn't quit ringing all morning?"
Rachel shrugged. "I'd suggest getting Caller ID, but that'll be a moot point after next week. Either unplug it or deal with it." She walked past Debbie over to my aquarium and knelt. I sat up on the edge of my bed and regarded her morosely.
"Just wanted to let you know I won't be around for a couple of days," Rachel told me. "I've got to fly back to Midland and take care of our last minute preparations. But I'll be back on Saturday to collect you and your parents. We'll drive you to Dallas and get you set up in your hotel. The hearing starts on Monday."
I nodded, and mercifully she stood and walked away. She gave Debbie her card and instructed her to call if anything unexpected should happen. Then, finally, she left. I breathed a sigh of relief when the front door closed behind her.
Debbie walked over to the phone and unplugged it from the jack. Then, with a relieved smile on her face, she informed us that she's going to go start breakfast. As soon as she was out of earshot in the kitchen, Nicole walked over and knelt outside the aquarium.
"You want to play in my room today?" she asked.
I nodded. "In a bit. First, I need you to do something for me."
"What?"
"Plug the phone back in. I need you to call Suzy for me."
Rachel had Suzy under constant surveillance, so I knew a meeting was out of the question. She probably had the phone tapped as well, but that didn't matter. I just need to get a quick message to her, to let her know that I knew... Unfortunately, as I learned at the Morgan house next door, I'm incapable of making myself heard on the telephone.
I crouched on Nicole's shoulder, holding her hair to steady myself. She held the portable to her ear just over my head. I could hear the muffled ringing, and a man's voice answer.
"Mr. Le? May I speak to Suzy please?" Nicole paused a second, the added "It's Nicole Ricci."
A few seconds later, another voice came on the line. It was muffled and indistinct, but I recognized it as Suzy's and my heart began pounding. I stood and hoisted myself up on Nicole's hair, anxious to get closer to the receiver. Nicole grinned as she felt my struggles against her neck, and tilted her head slightly to bring the phone down closer to me.
"Suzy, it's Nicole," she said. "I was just calling to give you a message from Ray. He says... he knows you were protecting your family and..."
"Tell her I love her and I understand!" I said loudly.
"He says he loves you," Nicole said with a giggle. "And he understands."
For a long while, there was no response and I wondered if Suzy was afraid of some sort of retaliation from Rachel. I told myself it didn't matter if she replied or not. What was important was that we both knew what Rachel had been trying to accomplish, and that it hadn't worked.
But finally, she spoke. Her voice was choked with emotion, but I heard her quite clearly. "Is Ray there, Nicole? Can he hear me?"
"Yes!" I shouted futilely. Nicole repeated it.
"I love you too, Ray," Suzy said. "No matter what anybody says, or makes me say. Remember that."
She hung up then, obviously wary of GenetiTech listening in. But it didn't matter. Suzy loved me, and she knew I loved her. I felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted. In fact, for the first time since yesterday, I felt a glimmer of hope.
Giantess World
Homunculus by Cayce