I Found A Knife

Willie & Frank--
Shakespeare?
In Nano-Time

Chapter 8 --
Jamie's In... Jail

Ever see one of those old “B” movies about some black and white war where soldiers are “pinned down” and they spend five minutes with the barrel of the machine gun pointed over the top of the machine gun nest, finger on the trigger, spraying movie magic bullets everywhere? They're shooting at nothing, but they're doing it really fast, and for an amazingly long time. Then there's a few moments of silence. Then, again without even looking, they do it again. That's what it sounded like in the dungeon when I came back in. Jennifer was hammering away on one keyboard, and then the other. She'd type a question or whatever on the keyboard that fed the screen Willie and Frank were using. Then, while they answered her, she'd hammer away on the other keyboard, the one that fed the screen and the lab upstairs.

I watched for a minute from the doorway. When she switched back to the keyboard that talked to Willie and Frank I sat down next to the other keyboard. I began hitting the space bar, intermittently. When she stopped typing I handed her the ice cream and a spoon.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You know, you don't actually have to type any particular words on this keyboard. I put a subroutine on it. What ever key you hit, it puts words at random on the screen.”

“That is true, geek boy,” she said. “Except for the two position switch at the top. Your program only effects the first position. The other position, the one it's set on now? It puts whatever you type on the screen.”

I looked at the screen. All I had typed was three lines of empty spaces. “Curses, outgeeked again.”

“How did you know about the flip switch?” I asked.

“I paid for my bachelor's degree working the emergency operator's desk over at U-City medical center. They have keyboards just like this one. Deaf people have the same emergencies as the rest of us, and they either call 911 or call the hospital. So, for example, I know a half dozen shortcut ways to say 'my grandmother fainted'.”

“Really?”

She nodded, “The fastest is Granny's down, but my favorite is: She done fell out.”

“She done fell out?”

“Oh yeah. The first time I got that one, I typed back: 'She fell out of the window'?”

Jennifer ate some ice cream and I typed in some actual words on the lab screen. Meanwhile I was trying to read the other screen, the one with the conversation between her and the mice. But all I could see was the last screen. It had something about placement and alliteration. And the top line was just the end of a sentence, something about filling in a sequence.

“Anyway,” Jennifer said. “We need to make sure that at least some of what the mice type reflects what they see on the screen, and what they are thinking about it.”

“OK, and?”

“And Frank doesn't want to do it. Says he doesn't appreciate being manipulated. Willie just wants to know if there is pizza in it for them.”

“Jennifer I swear, it was only one time--”

“Forget that, not important. I've talked with them, and explained how important it is, and they'll do the typing, as long as Frank can continue working on his book.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool, but only if you've got some more tech magic up your sleeve. You have to figure out a way that Frank and or Willie can switch between input screens. Until then, you and I are on keyboard duty. It won't be as bad as you might think. They've agreed to try to just work with the lab screen overnights, while we sleep. We'll have to take turns covering the rest of the time.”

“Does this mean your not pissed at me?” I said hopefully.

“Oh no, I'm still very pissed at you.” Hopes dashed. “But,” she said, “I am not pissed at Willie and Frank. So, for them, I'm going to help you work this out.”

“Fair enough.”

“After you figure out the switch, we'll put it in place and Willie and Frank will begin to slowly, we hope, bring their language skills, in the lab, up to where they actually are.”

“Where they are?”

“Jake, if I had to guess Willie's working at an early high school level. Frank... Frank's somewhere way over my head.”

“So, Frank really could write Shakespeare?”

“If Frank had the scientific level equal to his literary comprehension? He could build a time travel machine out of a bread maker, go back and write Hamlet the first time around.”

“That's... kinda frightening.”

“Got that right. So, can you do the magic? Make it possible for them to control the inputs?”

“Sure. I should be able to.”

"Great, that should buy us a little time to figure out what's next. How fast can you get that switch together.”

I snapped to attention and saluted. “Sir, first thing tomorrow morning, sir!”

“Well done, private. Keep your eye on the prize.” She picked up her shot kit and headed for the door.

“Umm, what prize?”

She just smiled, then she was out the door.

Damn, sometimes I'm so slow.

Oh, crap. I forgot to tell her about Igor and Lurch. I went to the door, but she had already disappeared up the stairs.

Tomorrow. I made sure the door locked when I closed it. Besides, I wanted to get back to the screens to see what she and the guys had talked about.

But I didn't get to.

What the heck....? And then I typed.

HEY, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CONVERSATION YOU TWO HAD WITH JENNIFER?

Frank moved around the touch pad.

I ERASE D IT. IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF MY NOVEL.

HOW DID YOU DO THAT?

JENNIFER SHOWED ME HOW.

Grrrrrrrr. Man, she's good. SO WHAT DID YOU GUYS TALK ABOUT?

A GREAT DEAL. SHE WANTED TO KNOW HOW WELL WE WRITE AND UNDER STAND.

I thought about it for a minute. MAKES SENSE. ANY QUESTIONS I CAN ANSWER FOR YOU?

Willie and Frank chirped and squeaked between each other for a bit. Then Willie moved around the word pad.

SHE SAID SHE WAS GOING TO HELP YOU WITH THE LAB.

YES, I typed. SHE SAID SHE WOULD.

Willie moved around the keyboard while Frank watched me intently.

SHE WAS UNHAPPY WHEN SHE WROTE ABOUT THE LAB. WHAT IS THE LAB

Hmm...

DO YOU REMEMBER ME TELLING YOU THAT THERE WERE SOME PEOPLE WHO WANTED TO SEE IF YOU COULD LEARN TO WRITE?

YES

THOSE PEOPLE WORK IN THE LAB. THEY READ WHAT YOU TYPE. WELL, THEY WERE, UNTIL I CHANGED THE SCREEN.

YES JENN E FIR EXPLAINED. WE HAVE TO TYPE ABOUT WHAT WE SEE ON THE TV AND THE SCREEN OR THEY WILL GET NOSE EE.

“Jen e fir”, “Nosee” I smiled sadly. I've got to expand this touchpad.

YES I typed.

Frank took over the word pad.

SHE SAID THEY COULD MAKE US LEAVE HERE. STOP MY WORK.

YES. I.. WE DO NOT WANT THAT. WE WANT YOU TO WRITE AND BE HAPPY.

I looked at what I'd written. It sounded so lame, so weak. But I didn't want to answer too many questions. I didn't know what Jennifer had told them. I hadn't asked her what she had in mind. I just had to trust her, and wait for whatever happened next. Come to think of it. What I wrote sounded pretty much how I felt.

I was watching cartoons with Willie while Frank worked on his story. I wasn't really paying that much attention, though. Put it this way, we'd been watching Pinky and the Brain for about ten minutes before it occurred to me just how weird that was. I spent the next several minutes watching Willie watch Pinky and the Brain. And the rest of the show trying to figure out which of us would be the brain. I wasn't feeling real confident about my place in the pecking order when the show ended and Frank typed.

CAN WE WATCH THE NEWS NOW

I changed the channel to the news and went to get a glass of water. Ever have an experience where you were watching television, and then felt like you were on it? Somewhere during the glass of water the television went from “Ha ha, Pinky and the Brain; “Same thing we do every day, try to take over the world.” to a mob of cops on television dragging a couple of guys out of an apartment complex. Well, one guy. The other guy was being carried away on a stretcher. The point is, I KNEW them. I had seen them recently, when I followed them across the quad and watched them come out of the Parkit Market and drive off down the road.

The blond talking head was saying something about sexual assaults and a brawl at an apartment laundromat and assailants and multiple arrests. And then she was drowned out by Shawn pounding on the dungeon door.

I could hear him hollering out in the hallway. I opened the door and he rushed past me into the room,, still yelling nonstop.

“...Two hundred dollars or they won't let him out and it wasn't even his fault. The cop on the phone said they knew it wasn't his fault but he has to see the judge before he can be released and if I don't come up with the two hundred bucks they are going to keep him locked up all night, and that's a load of crap. It's not like he did anything wrong or anything. That little weasel deserved it.. worse! So, what about it? Quit standing there. We gotta go. You gonna help me help him or not?”

I handed the glass to Shaun.“Shaun,” I said as quietly as I could manage. “Drink this.” While his mouth was otherwise occupied I asked him, “Who needs two hundred dollars? Who is him? And, by little weasel, do you mean that lab guy, Igor? He was just on the news being carried to an ambulance. While we're at it, since when do you scream hysterically like a young girl?”

He finished the water and handed me back the glass. “Thanks. My mouth was getting really dry.”

“I figured. Now, once more, with names and places?”

“It was on the news?” he said. I just nodded.

“That figures,” he went on. “When Jamie called he said there were cops all over the place. Anyway, I'm not sure what all happened, but Jamie is jail. You saw Igor?” I nodded again.

“Apparently Jamie did that.”

“No way.” Jamie?

“Yup. I don't have the whole story, but something happened in the laundry room at their apartments and Jamie went after him with a shoe.”

“And Jamie went to jail,” I said, thinking I understood now. I was so wrong.

“Well, yes, but he's not alone,” Shaun said. “Lurch is there, too, and I guess Igor will be, if he gets out of the hospital, and a bunch of others from the apartments, the ones that didn't wind up at the hospital themselves. Anyway, bail for Jamie is two hundred dollars. I've got a hundred and seventy five. Can you help with the other twenty five?”

“Sure,” I said. It was Jamie. Jail time, even overnight, was not an option. “Let's go.”

We went out the door. I started up the stairs and then came back. Shaun paced in the hall while I searched. “Ah, found them!” I said, and held up my keys. Locking the door behind me it occurred to me that I was locking the door for the second time... ever. This sucks.

As we hit the top of the stairs Shaun said, “Umm, can you spring for some gas money, too? The light on the dash came on when I pulled into the lot. I wouldn't ask, but.. you know.”

Oh yeah, a lot of things suck right now. I shoved the keys in my pocket.

“Let's take mine. We'll get you some gas tomorrow.”

Three hours later we were spilled around several large tables in Denny's. At our table was me, Shaun, Jamie, and several friends of Jamie's; including a couple of girls and a very large drag queen. The drag queen was about six – four, maybe two hundred and fifty pounds, but perfectly muscled and proportioned. Long blond hair with the “That Girl” curls at the ends, wide blue eyes that had to be contacts, deep tan, and amazing legs, in four inch stiletto heels.

Jamie went around the table with introductions. Apparently the girls were Deb and Kristie. They had been in the laundry room when things went nuts.

“And this is Ken,” Jamie said.

Major points for me, here.

“Nice to, um... meet you,” I said to all of them, and tried not to look at Ken.

I will not giggle. I will not giggle.

“Umm, weird night, huh?”

Then Ken held out his hand for me to shake. His nails were perfect.. and pink.

I have to shake it, right?

I shook. Smooth, tight skin. Firm, cool grip. He felt like soft plastic.

Major, major points for me. Big ass truckload of them.

I excused myself, muttering something about the men's room. Which is where I went, and beat my head against one of the stall doors until the urge to giggle went away.

By the time I came back the waitress had already delivered everyone's caffeine of choice, coffee or sodas, around the table.

And Jennifer was in my seat. She smiled up at me and scooted over enough for me to sit next to her.

“How did you...?” I started.

Jennifer started to answer but Jamie cut in. “Are you kidding? By now half the county knows about it.”

“Or some version of it,” Shaun added. “I bet there's some wild stories flying around.”

“The truth was wild enough,” Ken said, and everyone at the table agreed.

I was still looking at Jennifer. “Jamie told you.”

“No, Shaun did,” she answered.

I looked at Shaun. He nodded. “I called her on the way to the dungeon to get you. I told her this is where you would probably be after.”

“So you called her, before you even asked me to help.”

He just kind of shrugged. “Hey, bro. Have you ever not helped a friend in need? I don't think so.”

“I think that's very sweet,” Jennifer said. “Now hush, so I can get all the gory details.”

She looked at the group, then at Ken. “Ok, how many times did you get to hit Brad with the shoe? Did you knock him out? He's such a sleazebag.”

Ken shook his head and pointed at Jamie.

“What?” I said. “No way.”

“Yes, way!” Kristie said. “Jamie took off his shoes and went all ninja warrior on his ugly ass.”

Shaun and I both talked at the same time.

He said, “That's my man.”

“No shit,” I said. “Wait --, what?”

Jennifer poked me and said, “Shh. Ok, start at the beginning. What happened?”

Jamie started the ball. “Those too guys from the chem lab were hanging out in the 2^nd floor laundry room.”

“They've been doing it for weeks,” Kristie said. “They don't even live there.”

“Anyway,” Jamie said, “They were passing out free glasses of wine to the girls. It's the weekly laundry party. A bunch of the girls in the apartment get together and do laundry and bitch.”

“We do not!” Kristie said. Everyone at the table, and the next one, stopped what they were doing and looked at her.

“Ok, we do,” she admitted. “But it's not all bitching.”

“Yeah,” Ken said, “Sometimes they do hair. That's why I was there. Deb was doing my hair. I was supposed to be doing a show tonight at Freddies. Damn it. My hair looked so good.”

Kristie patted his hand, and continued the story. “Apparently the research geeks spiked a bottle of wine with some kind of me so horny juice. They were giving out free glasses to all the girls. God knows where they got it.”

“I do,” I said, without thinking.

“Beg pardon?” Shaun said.

“Oh, sorry. I, uh, I think I know where they got it, sort of. I saw Igor and Lurch coming out of one of the first floor labs earlier today.”

“Igor and Lurch?” Deb asked. “That fits.”

I nodded. “They had their shot kits with them, those little leather cases they carry when they are coming in to give the mice their shots. Anyway, they were acting really shady. They went out the back way, out the loading docks and I followed them. They bought some wine and laundry stuff at the Parkit Market and then drove off in this P O S ghetto car.”

“Earlier, like when you went to get ice cream?” Jennifer asked. “Why didn't you say something?”

“I, um.. I forgot, I guess,” I said weakly. “We were talking about other stuff. Besides, I just thought they were acting weird.”

“Aren't they always?” Jamie added.

“Not like you could have done anything anyway, even if you had known they were really up to something,” Shaun said. “Besides, if you had, maybe Jamie wouldn't have gotten to go all Jackie Chan with his heels of doom.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer said. “Let's get back to that.”

Kristie took up the story. “They weren't offering any wine to the guys that were there, not that there were many of them. But they offered Ken some.” She laughed. “I don't think they realized...”

“That Barbie was really Ken?” Shaun asked.

Just like that, the giggles were back.

"Oh, thank God," I choked out. "I thought it was just me."

Then everybody was giggling.

“It's not that funny,” Ken said.

We took turns trying to give him an "Are you kidding?" look while still giggling.

“Oh, bullshit,” Jamie said. “It's just as funny as you meant it to be when you came up with the outfit.”

A sixties era round cosmetic mirror appeared like magic in Ken's hand and he studied himself, very seriously in the mirror, before snapping it closed. There was this wicked grin on his face.

“Damn straight it is.”

Giggles broke into full on laughter. It took a minute before Kristie could go on with the story.

“Anyway, they kept offering, and he kept putting drinks away.”

“I was just calming my nerves. Getting ready for the show,” Ken said.

“They were just about to calm you right out of that shimmery cocktail dress, darlin'” Deb said. “That would have really been a show.”

“Just as well,” Ken said. “I'm more woman than either of those little freaks could handle, anyway.”

“True enough,” Kristie said. “They started getting pushy. We were all dancing around and feeling goofy. Whatever it was, it was some good stuff. I guess we didn't notice that they had Ken penned in over in a corner. That's when Jamie came in.”

“We were supposed to have left like an hour before,” Jamie said. “I didn't know what the hell had happened to him.”

Kristie laughed. “Jamie was wearing this Tina Turner mini dress. He had on the spiky wig and everything.”

“I looked good,” Jamie declared.

“Yes you did, dear,” Deb said. “Next thing I know Jamie's tossed the wig at me and he's got a spike heel Prada in each hand. He screamed and stormed across the room. The shoes were spinning over his head, coming down one at a time in a circle.”

“Fashion ninja to the rescue,” I said.

“Yeah,” Kristie said. “Lurch was on the door side. He ran like the rat he is. He left Brad stuck between Ken and the wall. By the time we got Jamie off of him ol' Brad was down and out. He was bleeding pretty bad, and he wasn't moving. Somebody called 911.”

“They got there quick,” Deb said. “Later, as they were wheeling him out, I heard one of the paramedics say they thought he had at least four broken ribs, and maybe some serious eye damage.”

“Yeah?” Jamie said. “Well, I'm not sorry.”

“Doesn't sound like you should be,” I said.

“The cops arrested everybody they could get their hands on, except Ken.”

“That's because I was the victim,” Ken said in some odd Scarlett O'Hara imitation.

Scarlett just shouldn't be a baritone.

“The damsel in distress?” Deb asked.

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” He took a long drink of his soda and suddenly belched. I laughed, again. I couldn't help it. Barbie actually blushed. It was somehow very disorienting. “Sorry,” he said.

“They said I have to go before a judge tomorrow,” Jamie said. “But they caught Lurch out by his car and he talked. They didn't tell me what all he said, but apparently he spilled everything. The desk sergeant said I'd probably get the bail money back after I see the judge.”

“Probably?” I asked.

“Not now,” Shaun said quietly. “We'll get it back. Besides, wasn't tonight worth the price of admission?”

“I'd have paid it twice, if I could have been the one swinging the shoes,” Jennifer said. Shaun and I looked at her.

“About a month ago they tried the same thing over at my apartment building. Nothing happened. I guess they hadn't figured out the ratio yet. Everybody just got sleepy and left early.” She leaned back in her seat. “But it could have been just as bad, or worse. I didn't know that was what they were up to. If I had I'd have gone to Doctor Marten.”

While I sat their picturing myself standing over Igor with a spike heeled shoe in my hand, Shaun said,

“At least you shouldn't have to deal with either of them again.”

“Hey, he's probably right,” I said to her. “Even if they make bail. The lab isn't going to let them come back. Not after getting caught taking drugs from the lab.”

“The lab's going to be too busy trying to cover there asses on just what the drugs were that they stole.”

“That's true,” Jennifer said. “So, maybe I'll just volunteer to cover all of the assistant duties for Willie and Frank.”

~~~~~~

Sure enough, it was Jennifer who woke me up the next morning, coming in to check on Willie and Frank.

“There was a message on my answering machine when I got home last night,” she said. “They didn't say anything about what happened. Just asked me to cover the mice this morning, and they would talk to me before lunch time.”

She pulled the pillow out from under my head. “If you don't get a move on you're going to be late. Then they'll be talking to you before lunch time.”

Willie was on the touch pad.

GOOD MORNING

GOOD MORNING WILLIE HOW GOES THE WRITING.

I'M NOT SURE. LOOK AND SEE FOR YOURSELF.

Jennifer scrolled up several screens and found this:

JAKE: (NODS) MY REPORT IS CALLED ‘WHY WE LAUGH.’

FRANK: (OPENS THE BOOK AND LOOKS THROUGH THE PAGES) OH, WHAT A FUN SUBJECT.

JAKE: (SERIOUSLY) COMEDY IS NOT FUN, FRANK.

FRANK: (JUMPS) OF COURSE NOT. (SHE PUTS THE BOOK ON THE COUNTER NEXT TO HER FLOWERS.)

JAKE: IT’S A SCIENCE. CURLY, LARRY, AND MO HAD TO THINK VERY CAREFULLY BEFORE THEY DECIDED ON IF THEY SLAPPED. UH. AN EYE GOUGE. OH. OR A NOSE TWIST. AH. THAT IS NOTHING TO LAUGH AT.

FRANK: JAKE REALLY BREAKS ME UP. HE CAN BE AS FUNNY AS A RUBBER CHICKEN.

WILLIE: LOOKING AT A LETTER THAT’S AWFUL.

FRANK: WELL I KNOW IT’S NOT ONE OF MY BEST. WHAT’S THE MATTER? BAD NEWS FROM HOME?

WILLIE: NO, THIS ISN’T MY LETTER. I OPENED JO’S MAIL BY MISTAKE. IT’S FROM HER FATHER.

FRANK: OH, JO WILL UNDERSTAND.

WILLIE: NO SHE WON’T. CAUSE SHE TOLD EVERYBODY HER FATHER LIVES IN MIAMI.

FRANK: I KNOW.

WILLIE: HE REALLY LIVES IN THE STATE SLAMMER.

FRANK: WHAT? PRISON?

WILLIE: NO WONDER JO DIDN’T WANT TO SEE ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ.

FRANK: THAT POOR KID, TRYING TO KEEP A SECRET LIKE THAT. HOLD ON WILLIE, WE’LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT.

WILLIE: I ALREADY DID. JO’S LETTER GOT LOST IN THE MAIL AND IT’S ABOUT TO GET FLUSHED OUT TO SEA.

FRANK: FORGET IT. WILLIE, THAT WOULD BE A LIE.

WILLIE: BUT JO’S GOING TO THINK I SNOOPED ON PURPOSE. YOU KNOW MY REPUTATION.

FRANK: YES, YOU’VE EARNED IT… LOOK, I’LL TALK TO JO AND EXPLAIN EVERYTHING. IN THE MEAN TIME, ZIPS THE WORD.

Jennifer sat down at the keyboard.

WILLIE, DID FRANK STAY UP ALL NIGHT WATCHING TELEVISION AGAIN?

YES. I THINK SO. WHY.

BECAUSE THIS LOOKS LIKE A SCRIPT FOR AN OLD TELEVISION SHOW CALLED THE FACTS OF LIFE. IT IS ABOUT A BUNCH OF YOUNG GIRLS TRAPPED IN A KITCHEN AT A GIRLS SCHOOL.

OH, Willie typed. IT SOUNDS AWFUL.

"Why do you know that?" I asked her.

"Shut up, Ninja Turtle boy."

"Oh, yeah, that's why."

She was still typing.

IS FRANK SLEEP WALKING?

I DO NOT KNOW.

WELL, Jennifer typed. LET'S JUST ERASE THIS PART AND NOT MENTION IT. OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND, OK?

On the keyboard Willie shivered, before typing:

EASY FOR YOU TO SAY. WE DO NOT SEEM TO BE FORGETTING THINGS THESE DAYS.

Jennifer made a note in her book. REALLY? She typed. YOU REMEMBER EVERYTHING? HOW FAR BACK CAN YOU REMEMBER?

I REMEMBER BACK TO WHEN WE CAME TO BE IN THIS ROOM. I THINK I REMEMBER THINGS THAT I USED TO NOT REMEMBER. I AM NOT SURE HOW THAT COULD BE. BUT I DO.

He kept typing.

IT IS VERY STRANGE. I AM NOT SURE. BUT I THINK I AM REMEMBERING THINGS MORE VIVID L Y THAN BEFORE. I REMEMBER SMALL THINGS. TIMES WHEN I WAS HUNGRY. TIMES WHEN I WAS TOO FULL. I REMEMBER GETTING MY FRONT FOOT CAUGHT IN THE EDGE OF THE CAGE, AND THAT WAS WEEKS AGO. I REMEMBER THE SMALL AMOUNT OF PAIN. AND THE LARGE AMOUNT OF FEEL ING HELP LESS.

I'd never seen Willie say so much at one time before. I came to the cage as he was finishing. He took a break. I could see he was out of breath. But, before Jennifer could type a response, he was back at it again.

I THINK IT IS HARD ER FOR FRANK. HE SEES MORE THAN I DO. AND SO, REMEMBERS MORE.

Jennifer typed: WHAT DO YOU MEAN “SEES MORE”?

YOU SHOULD ASK HIM WHEN HE WAKES UP.

OK. THANK YOU. WE WILL.

I looked at Jennifer. “So what was that all about?”

“I honestly don't know, Jake. But I don't like the way it sounds.”

“Me either,” I agreed. “Tell you what, come get me before you come down next time, and I'll come with you.”

“Will do,” she said. Then she kissed my cheek and was out the door.

How come girls can do that? I'd been thinking for days on just the right way to kiss her: The right time, the right words, the correct way to lean in... left tilt, right tilt.... and then, as casual as skipping rope, she goes and throws all my thoughts and plans out the window. Sure, it was just a kiss on the cheek. But now everything is escalated somehow. Now it all has to be casual, like we've been kissing for weeks. But not too casual. It still has to feel like it matters to me. And boy does it matter to me.

I would have kept thinking about it, but by then I was down the hall and into the shower, and I got soap in my eyes.

Up Next: Billy Banana & The Dark Side