Family Business (working title)
an excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

The window outside had one of those pyramid shaped decals with an eye in the middle of it, along with a clear view of over a dozen shelves lined with various knick-knacks, X-Files action figures and customizable tin foil hats for a buck fifty. I shook my head and pushed the door open. The melody from Close Encounters chimed softly through the store, attracting the attention of the man behind the desk. He was a singularly unremarkable person, wearing a stained white shirt and glasses that made his eyes look like he was peering at you from the other side of a fish bowl. With several panicked blinks he looked up at me, expression one of shock mixed with a twinge of fear. I cocked an eyebrow at him and struck a pose that some part of my subconscious had decided would make me look sarcastically unimpressed. Probably just made my hips look big.

"I'm looking for the Abductee Club. Is this the place?" I asked.
"H-how did you find out about that?" the man hissed, his eyes getting even wider, if that's possible.
I sighed softly and dug a scrap of paper out of my jeans pocket. Captain Ratbert's face fell a little as he regarded the newspaper clipping, emblazoned with the same pyramid-eye design and an advertisement for the Abductee Club in bold print underneath, along with an address. "O-oh." He said.
Haha, the sweet sound of triumph. "Forgot you put an ad out, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Business isn't good then, I take it."
Ratbert ran a hand through his greasy brown hair and sighed loudly. "Never is."
I shook my head. "Why do you even bother?"
He gave me a look then, like I'd just asked him why the sky was blue, and I couldn't help shifting my weight guiltily. "Because they're out there, and I'm one of the few people smart enough to realize it. I have to do it. There's no other choice." His eyes got wide again. "You of all people should know that, if you're here for the Club."

You of all people should know that, a voice in my head repeated. It was about all I could do not to laugh. Or cry. One of the two. Poor little man. He had no idea what he'd just said and never would if I had anything to say about it. I put the newspaper clipping back in my pocket and readjusted my purse, which was slung over my left shoulder, making sure that it was in a good position for the equipment inside of it to continue recording. Everything I was seeing, hearing, saying, and smelling was being taken in, though personally I could have done without the last one. What is it about these conspiracy theory freaks that makes them all smell so weird? Is there some kind of kit I'm not aware of?

"The rest of the Club is already here, if you want to join us. We were just about to start. Sally made cookies." said Ratbert, extending a clammy hand. Gingerly I shook it. "My name's Wally. What's yours?"
About a dozen aliases flickered through my head, but another voice in my head reminded me that I'd put those days behind me now. Busy place, my brain. "Sharice Waverly. Nice to meet you, Wally."
"Come with me," he said, leaving his post at the desk and flipping the sign on the door from OPEN to CLOSED. A quick glance at the empty street outside made me wonder why he bothered, but then again I'd found my way here. I was a bit different than most folk though, I suppose. I turned my attention back to Wally, holding my breath and taking a discreet step backwards and he passed just a little too close, and followed him through the tiny store into the back.

I pushed my way through the cloth Star Wars doorway, my heels clicking softly on the three wooden steps leading down into the dark, sunken room. Five people sat around a table that had clearly been picked up at a garage sale, staring intently into a cheap crystal ball sitting in the center. One of the people-- a woman -- looked up at Wally as he entered, and grinned broadly. "Wally!" She croaked, years of cigarette abuse suddenly making themselves apparent in those few tiny syllables. The iridescent headwrap she was wearing made me wonder if the cigarettes had been laced with anything, and I grimaced. There's always one, I thought.
"Hi, Sally." said Wally, taking a seat and motioning for me to do the same. I dragged one of the folding chairs pushed up against the walls over and positioned myself as far away from Sally as possible. The fake smile she favored me with spoke volumes, and most of the chapters were on how much she already hated me. The feeling was entirely mutual.
"Cookies?" Sally croaked, pushing a plate of perfectly formed sugar cookies towards me. I tried not to laugh. The plate was designed in the shape of a green alien with gigantic black eyes and pointy ears.
"No thanks. I don't eat sugar." I lied, returning her disingenuous grin as hard as I could.
Totally oblivious, Wally apparently thought we were getting along great, because he clapped his hands together happily and smiled at us both. "Terrific! Everybody, this is Sharice. She'll be joining us for this afternoon's session."
"Hi Sharice," everyone said in unison. Why is it coming to one of these things always makes me feel like I've become an alcoholic? I mouthed something appropriate in return, trying to appear cheerful and at the same time ignore the holes Sally was slowly glaring in me.
"Well, today is the 3rd, so we'll be discussing dream walking, visions, and repressed memories," said Wally around a mouthful of sugar cookie. "Since Sharice is new, why don't we all go round robin real quick and show her how it's done?" Approving nods all around. Hurray. If only they knew. "Sally, why don't you start us off? Have you been receiving any telepathic communications from Fluffy lately?"

Telepathic communications.
Fluffy.
What?

"Well, Wally, I'm glad you asked me that, because I had one just last night," Sally said, donning an expression of sheer seriousness with the occasional satisfied glance in my direction. I just gaped at her. "I went to bed at my usual time after a simple supper, nothing that would affect my dreaming state. I though that since today was the 3rd, I should be prepared, so I underwent all the normal aura and chakra cleansing rituals."
There were nods of approval from everyone at the table, and Sally beamed. Holy crap.
"As you know, Fluffy is always prominent in my thoughts, but last night I just couldn't shake the feeling that he was with me. All night long I kept waking up, thinking he was next to me, or imagining that I'd felt his fur underneath my fingers." Sally made a soft choking sound and put her hands over her heart, pouting pointedly at Wally. "Some moments I actually thought that he was really there with me, and that he was still alive. Oh! It was just like the old days!" The choking noises got louder and fat tears squeezed their way free of Sally's eyes. "I miss him so much!"
Wally shushed her, patting her supportively on the shoulder and pushing the cookie tray in her direction as the other Club members murmured comforting words at her. Like the sharp witted genius that I am, I just continued to stare at her in disbelief, my brain locked in a desperate tug of war. The only thought I could get ahold of seemed to be me wondering whether or not Fluffy was a dog or a cat.

After a few minutes, Sally gathered her composure again, and the tale began anew. "When I finally fell asleep, he was there with me Wally," she gasped, clutching Wally's hand and attempting what I think she meant to be a pitiful damsel in distress expression. It just sort of made her look nauseous. "Actually there. And he spoke to me, telling me of dark times ahead, and then suddenly we were back in ancient Egypt! Together, we traversed the golden streets, watching as the peasants bowed before us, and I realized that I had become [EGYPTIAN NAME HERE] once again, and that Fluffy had transformed into a great avatar of the all mighty Bast!"
There was a collective gasp of astonishment from around the table.
"Side by side we entered the palace and I took my place on the throne, separating from my royal self once again so that I might grovel at her feet. Fluffy became himself again too, curling up over my hands to keep them warm. Obviously I felt helpless and disconnected from the world, since my hands were absolutely freezing the whole time."
I bit back an inappropriate comment about electric blankets and open windows.
"[EGYPTIAN NAME] spoke to me, Wally! She pointed to the sky which became black like oil and lightning flashed, red as blood, and ashes started falling from the sky. She warned me of the demons approaching and I saw horrible visions of twisted hallways and cats walking on their hind legs...oh..." Sally swooned dramatically, her chair tipping just far enough to make Wally reach for it to steady her. "Oh, it's almost too much to think about, even now. I spent two hours staring at my ceiling the next morning, just trying to piece it all together. But of course I wrote it down, and analyzed it before I came here." She brought forth a giant purse which was covered in soft white hair, and I tried very hard not to gag, hoping that its soft exterior wasn't what was left of Fluffy. Sally plunged a hand into the bag and pulled out a small, well used notebook, its cover an artist's rendition of an alien encounter in the desert. Normally this would have been the part where I snickered derisively, but I was still recovering from the shock of seeing the Fluffy Bag and was content to sit there silently as Sally paged through her notebook.

After a few moments of concentrated muttering and page turning, Sally found what she was looking for and let out a small cry of triumph. "Here! I've written it all down here, including interpretations of the images seen inside my dreaming state, and of course a detailed description of everything that happened. I got onto Wikipedia the morning after and added everything here to the profile of [EGYPTIAN NAME]. Strangely enough, someone had deleted everything I'd already posted up 'til then..." Sally wrinkled her face in what I think was supposed to be a thoughtful expression. "I can't imagine why...thankfully I had one of my backups handy..."

Wally took Sally's notebook first, perusing it briefly before handing it around the table. Slowly it made its way over to me, all while Sally continued expounding upon her amazing dream experience. I stared warily at her fluffy white bag and tried to tune out as much of it as I could. Inwardly I was kicking myself-- hard. What had I been expecting? Something intelligent? No wonder dad always forbade me to come to these things when I was little, I thought. They're stupid. Stars above, if only I'd known. If only they knew! The notebook was passed to me and I took it without thinking, straightening one of the pages that was threatening to come out. It was covered with Sally's cramped handwriting, a looping scrawl that was almost impossible to read. Suddenly I realized just how much they were all humoring her, and felt a little better. Lacking anything else better to do, I started studying the entry, paying close attention to the illustrations, since they were pretty much the only thing that made sense. Thankfully I was brought up reading difficult languages, so deciphering Sally's scrawl wasn't completely impossible, but I really started wondering what was in those cigarettes she was clearly so fond of.

And then, I started laughing.

I couldn't help myself. It was too absurd! Everything she'd written was a complete lie, clearly made up for attention. A hoax. Not just a hoax, but a hoax so utterly and completely unbelievable it was almost comic. And once I started laughing, I found I couldn't stop. I saw their horrified expressions, heard Sally's droning whine break off mid-sentence, felt Wally's absolute hatred wafting towards me. And I still couldn't stop. Desperately I grabbed one of Sally's sugar cookies and stuffed it in my mouth, forcing myself to chew and keep chewing until the urge to giggle maniacally had passed. They were all glaring at me. Hard.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. "But are you kidding me? Do you actually believe her?"
More glares.
"You can't possibly think she's actually receiving telepathic visions through the ashes of her dead cat, can you?" I asked, incredulous and chewing. "I mean, come on! There's a lot of whacky shit out there but this is pushing it a bit, don't you think? Egyptian gods? Reincarnation? It's like something out of a bad video game or fantasy novel. This is pathetic!" I finished the cookie and swallowed, looking straight at Sally. "Seriously, woman, what are you on? Should I be worried about the cookie I just ate?"
"Get out," growled Wally, standing up.
"Why? We haven't finished hearing all about everybody's communications with the great beyond!" I made a "oohing" noise, like a ghost, and waggled my fingers. "This is crap. Aliens do not send people dream visions, and if they do then they certainly wouldn't do it through somebody's dead pet! Do you have any idea how many telepathic health code violations that is?"
"I said get out," Wally repeated, grabbing my arm and hoisting me to my feet. Well, he tried to hoist me. Unfortunately Wally was a rather reedy little thing and I've been taking self defense classes since I was old enough to form complete sentences. I shrugged off his grip without even thinking and got up of my own free will, glaring at them all. "You people are idiots," I said. "You think you've got all the answers and you don't know jack. I should never have come here." I grabbed my purse and shot Sally a withering look, which was returned to me with quite a bit of enthusiasm. "And as for you," I said, "I know what that bag is made out of and I think it's sick. Good day."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why my boyfriend doesn't like it when I leave the house unattended.
Can't say I blame him.

***

I came home to an empty apartment, which was part blessing and part curse. Richard would be home soon, which meant that we'd end up talking about what happened at the sci-fi shop. Which would probably lead to another fight. I sighed, hanging up my coat and kicking off my shoes before collapsing dramatically on the couch. I hate days off. They give me too much time to think. Unfortunately with the government pension coming in and the fact that I was a security risk on two legs, days off were pretty much all I had now. Richard was the lucky one. He had a job. He had friends. He had a life. He had a last name that wasn't Waverly. Why he continued to put up with me baffled and frustrated me no end, because I couldn't figure it out. Today was just another example of why it was all wrong. "How far do I have to run?" I mumbled, staring off into space. "When does it stop? Why can't I just let it all go..."

The door rattled as someone turned the key in the lock. I sat up, rearranging my hair quickly and flicking an imaginary piece of self-pity off my shoulder. It wouldn't do to let Richard see I'd been wallowing. Again.
The door opened and he came through, affording me a few moments of quiet observation before he noticed me. I watched him go through his routine with a little smile on my face, knowing he'd deny it if I told him that he did absolutely everything in a pre-planned order. Close door, hang bag, hang coat, rearrange hair, turn around...
"Sharice?" He said, looking surprised. "I thought you were out shopping with your friends today?"
"What's the matter?" I countered, grinning and trying to look a lot happier than I felt. "Did your mistress follow you home?"
He frowned and came over, taking the seat next to me. "You didn't go shopping today, did you."
My happy-happy expression fell. Thwarted already. Crap. "No." I replied.
Richard sighed. "Where did you go?"
"The...the sci-fi shop?"
"Damn it, Sharice!" Hands over face. Rub eyes on the way down. Accusing stare laced with worry and frustration. The steps were the same every time with him. A man of routine, my Richard. Some part of me started screaming in silent rage at how normal this had all become but I just sat there like a stone, staring blankly at him as guilt started chewing away at me. "Why do you do this to yourself?" He asked. "I take it things didn't go well."
"They kicked me out," I said flatly.
"For crying out loud, Sharice, why didn't you just call me if you were bored? I could have gotten off work and we could have gone somewhere..." Sudden panic replaced the worry on his face. "You didn't tell them anything, did you?"
I put on a hurt expression, quickly burying my memory of mentioning telepathic health code violations. "Of course not! You should know me a lot better than that by now."
"How can I know you when you lie to me?"
"I don't lie to you!"
"Oh really? So you did go out shopping with your friends today?"
Damn. I didn't have a snappy comeback for that.

We sat in silence for awhile, each of us lost in our own worlds. I kept replaying the whole visit to Wally's shop in my mind, over and over again, picking apart every detail, every feeling, kicking myself repeatedly for being so stupid. It had been weeks since I'd given my old job any thought at all, but then suddenly there had been the newspaper and the website and this need, a need to see what the other side was like, to understand what those who didn't have the benefit--if I can even call it a benefit, more like a stinking pile of crap slathered liberally over my life--of my expertise and my knowledge did with their time. Somehow I'd been hoping I could find a friend, or a kindred spirit, or something, anything, to make the restlessness go away. To make the fact I couldn't sleep at night go away. To make the growing chasm between me and the people I loved go away.

And instead of a friend I'd ended up with Sally and her damned cat. Way to go me.

I grabbed the TV remote, ignoring the pained expression on Richard's face, and flipped channels until I found the news. For me, watching the news was kind of like sticking sharp pins in my forehead, but as far as I was concerned, anything was better than talking. This was a dance Richard and I had done many times before, in fact pretty much since I'd moved in with him two months ago. The silence between us continued as we both stared into the TV, uninterested, both resisting the urge to say something to smooth over the growing gap between us. Thousands of unsaid thoughts and feelings swam around in my head, and I pushed them all away as hard as I could. It was too late now. The silence had gone on too long. Saying anything now would make me look awkward, weak, or just plain stupid, and I'd probably start butchering whatever it was I wanted to talk about roughly two seconds after it came out of my mouth anyway. So I crossed my arms, sank back into Richard's overly plush couch, and stared as hard as I could into the glassy expression of the grizzled newscaster solemnly reporting on the day's prettiest, most TV worthy events. Because stars above, we couldn't have any sort of ugly news disfiguring our screens, now could we?

My brooding was sharply interrupted by the high pitched digital ring of a phone call. I muttered something unenthusiastic and reached for the remote, turning up the volume. Richard glanced at me, but I ignored him, and the phone kept on ringing.
"Sharice..." He said after the third ring.
"I'm not in the mood to talk with them." I snapped.
"Maybe it's important."
"That's the thing with them. It's always important. This time they can just suck it up without me." I imagined the ringing was getting louder and turned up the volume again. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Richard start frowning in that rumpled, grumpy Eeyore way of his whenever he was starting to get worried or annoyed. The little voice in my head that said it was one of the many cute little things I loved about him got a swift kick in the teeth.
"They're your family, Sharice." said Richard.
"Thank you, Baba Wawa. I'm not sure I would have noticed that without your cunning observations."
Richard sighed heavily, his frustration growing. Inwardly I cringed but I already knew that I couldn't stop myself. Once again I reached for the remote to increase the volume, but before my finger could hit the button Richard snatched it out of my hands faster than I could follow. "Ow!" I cried, more out of surprise than pain. "What the hell was that for?"
He hit the mute button. "Sharice. Answer the damn phone."
I stuck my chin out and set my shoulders back. Mom had always called it my mule-pose. Part of me dared Richard to argue with me just so I could show him how stubborn I really was. "No."
"They need you--"
"Don't care." I said quickly.
"--and if today is any indication, then you need them too."
Damn.
I didn't have a snappy comeback for that one, either.

Glaring as hard as I could at Richard, I slowly got off the couch and made my way towards the computer, taking as much time as I possibly could, hoping against hope that the phone would shut off just as I got there. Maybe they'll hang up, I thought. Tonight wasn't the night for talking with my family. Actually, there wasn't any night I wanted to talk with my family, but this one in particular was especially crappy timing. If any of them found out about what I'd done at the sci-fi store, or that Richard and I were having problems...I shook my head and chuckled softly. What was I saying? Most of my family probably hadn't even noticed that I'd moved out yet.

The ringing hadn't stopped by the time I sat down at the computer and pulled up the tele-conference program and plugged in my headset. Most computers wouldn't have been able to run it, including this one--or so I thought, before a mysterious email I opened one day downloaded the whole thing into the computer's hard drive. That's my sister for you. Sneaky little twerp. I'm still picking bits of the portable unit she snuck into my sock drawer somehow.
"Good evening, Ms. Waverly!" Chirped the digitized voice of the program, nicknamed Bob by yours truly. His CGI form waved cheerfully at me with a hand made up purely of shimmering 1's and 0's. "You have one incoming phone call. Would you like me to answer it?"
I sighed. "Yes, please."
The little avatar tilted its head to one side slightly. "I'm detecting high levels of frustration and reluctant behavior in your voice, Sharice. Are you sure you want me to answer this call?"
Reluctant behavior. Is that what they're calling it these days? "Yes, Bob. Answer the call."
"OK then! One moment please." There was a short pause as Bob connected the call and presumably said something cheerful to whoever it was on the other end of the line. While I waited I placed silent bets on which member of my family would bother me at this hour, and for what purpose. Why am I doing this? I asked myself that question over and over again as I waited, and for some reason the only answer I could come up with was a nameless feeling of need. Something in me actually wanted to talk to my family, even after all the measures I'd taken to get away...Ugh. There are days when I really hate being human.

A video link suddenly flickered into being, and I stared into the small, youngish face of my sister, Megan. Her soft brown hair looked as though it had been curled sometime that morning, and in the following hours had turned into a gigantic ball of reddish-brown frizz. Her eyes were bloodshot and had burgeoning circles under them, and I was sitting forward with worry before I could stop myself.
"Megan! Stars above, what's happened? You look like death!"
She twitched noticeably at the word, and I felt my stomach clench. "Sharice..." She whispered.
"No," I said, and to my right I heard Richard get up off the couch. "Megan, please tell me it's not..."
Megan's eyes widened, tears streaking down her face. "It's dad, Shar. He's been murdered."