Duality

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Carl sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands. His controller laid at his feet, and the TV scrolled through the stats of his latest round of PUBG. Kat sat next to him, sniffling, her face blotchy and red. In her hands she held a series of crumpled tissues stained black from her mascara.

She had spent the afternoon applying to jobs, calling various sketchy recruiters, and scrolling through entries on LinkedIn and Indeed. By mid-afternoon, she was drowning in a pool of her regret. After experiencing a brief panic attack, she trudged her way home through the snow. Sobbing, she delivered the bad news to her boyfriend, who was now in a state of shock. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t comfort her.

“Kat, why in the hell would you do that?” Carl was exasperated, tousling his hair over and over again. “You couldn’t wait until you got something else lined up?”

“I-it’s fine. I have some savings piled up. I could get another job.”

“You could, but will you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know. Will you?”

“Don’t put this on me.”

“You have been unemployed longer than I have, Carl. And at least I spent the day applying to new jobs. Why do you expect me to support the two of us?”

“Because you’re the one who was gainfully employed. Not only that, but you made good money.”

“This job wasn’t meant to be permanent. Sooner or later they would have fired me.”

“And you couldn’t wait for them to fire you? They would have given you at least a severance package.” He shook his head. “I wish you had, like, talked to me before you did this.”

“f**k you, Carl. You know I hated that job. You know I couldn’t stand the bullshit.”

“But we all have to put up with bullshit in our lives, Kat. It’s part of being an adult.”

Kat blinked. He stared back blankly, unable to comprehend the irony of his words. In that moment she was so overcome with rage that she was frozen in place. Her hands trembled and she resisted the urge to clench her fists. She shredded the used tissues into confetti, allowing the pieces to flutter to the ground.

“You know what’s also part of being an adult? Not sitting around on your ass all day playing video games,” Kat seethed, her eyes wide with anger. “Pack your s**t and get out.”

“Are you serious?”

“Are you serious?” She jumped to her feet and started unplugging the Xbox. He shouted at her to stop but she didn’t listen. “All the months I’ve spent, supporting your ass? While you do nothing all day long? And when I expect you to give me a little, a little f*****g compassion, you tear into me?” She threw the cables at his feet. “Get out.”

“You can’t kick me out of here, Kat. I have nowhere else to go.”

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, holding it up. “I will call the police. You have fifteen minutes to get your s**t and get out of my apartment.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. You need to calm down.”

“Uh huh.” She searched for the non-emergency number on the Minneapolis police website.

He reached for her phone and tried to grab it from her, but she leaped out of his grasp. She hurtled down the hallway and locked herself in the bathroom. Static crackled over the phone, and Kat paced about the small space, trying to find a more secure connection. She heard an odd, long, beeping tone, and then a dispatcher by the name of Wendy introduced herself.

“Yes? Hello? My name is Kat Wallace. My ex refuses to vacate my apartment.” She jumped, startled when Carl began aggressively jiggling the door handle. “He’s starting to escalate and I could use some assistance.”

“Stop calling the cops!” Carl shouted through the door, banging on it a few times. “I will leave! Just hand me my toothbrush!”

Kat rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you, Wendy. Yeah, as soon as possible. No, he shouldn’t be any threat, he’s just an i***t. Yep.”

She sat on the toilet, scrolling through her f*******: newsfeed. She listened to Carl rummage through cabinets and dresser drawers, muttering curse words underneath his breath. When she grew bored with f*******:, she examined the grout of the tile, lined with mildew and aged soap scum. She could only imagine the state of the toilet. Now that she was jobless, maybe she would deep clean this nasty place. She smirked at the thought. Clean up her messy apartment. Clean up her messy life. Killing two birds with one stone.

A knock at the door and a “Jesus H. Christ” from Carl signaled the police were here. Kat opened the bathroom door and handed Carl his toothbrush. She greeted the officer at the front door, a young black woman whose uniform looked oddly too big for her. Her long, braided hair framed her face, hanging almost low enough to touch her shoulders. She smiled, revealing perfect white teeth that almost blinded her.

“Uh…hello, Officer.” Kat was confused. She didn’t understand why they wouldn’t have sent over a more intimidating individual. This woman was more beauty queen than she was a cop.

“Officer Adebayo,” the woman responded, pulling up her pants by her leather belt. “You called us about a disturbance?”

“Yeah. My ex was refusing to vacate the premises.” She pointed over her shoulder at a seething Carl, who was struggling to lift a mountain of stuff. “Can you escort him to the curb please?”

“Certainly.” Officer Adebayo cleared her throat and motioned for Carl to follow her out the door.

Carl elbowed Kat as he passed by her. She rolled her eyes and shut the door. She turned to the pile of dishes he had accumulated in the sink and with a heavy sigh, she rolled up her sleeves. She started washing them. Not fifteen minutes later and she heard another knock on her door.

“Are you serious, Carl? You literally waited until the cop left to come back?” Kat jerked open the door with a huff and was surprised to see the officer standing there.

She smiled politely. “I wanted to stop back and check on you. In these kinds of situations, I am required to do a wellness check,” she said as she removed a legal pad from her pocket. “Can you tell me, did your ex-boyfriend get physical with you at all?”

“No. I mean, he elbowed me on his way out the door, but that’s just because he’s a douchebag. I’m okay. Thank you, Officer.”

Adebayo smiled. “My pleasure. I’ve been through my fair share of bad breakups.”

“Ever been with a freeloader?” Kat smirked.

“Fortunately no,” the officer chuckled. “I’m glad you’re okay, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” Kat said quietly. Suddenly she felt tired, and painfully sad. She hiccupped and tried to hold back her tears.

Adebayo reached out and touched her shoulder. “Ma’am? You’re sure he didn’t hit you, right? You’re not injured?”

Kat shook her head. “No, no. I am so sorry. I’m just tired. I quit my job, and I dumped my boyfriend today. Everything’s a mess right now and I just want it to get better.”

“Of course,” the officer nodded. “I’m sure things will get better.”

“I sure hope so,” Kat laughed. “At this point I’m counting on a miracle.”

“Miracles happen every day.”

She removed her baton, grimacing. Kat eyed her warily, wiping her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

The officer pressed a button on the baton, and it instantaneously shrunk into a small little wand. Before Kat could speak or step away, the tip was pressed against her forehead.

“Sleep,” Melody ordered.

Kat’s eyelids fluttered and she collapsed, falling forward on Melody’s shoulder. Crouching low, Melody swiped an arm underneath Kat so she could scoop her up. This was not a simple task as Kat was about four inches taller than she was. The added weight put an enormous amount of pressure on her shoulders.

Note to self: start weightlifting again, Melody thought.

Gritting her teeth, Melody cradled Kat in her arms, and shuffled over to the couch. She laid her down as gently as she could. She shut the front door and locked it, turned off the lights, and drifted back to where her patient slept. She pressed a button on her LyfeModulator wand, and in a flurry of holographic flakes, her police uniform disappeared, revealing her true outfit underneath.

“You’re going to be a tough case,” Melody murmured, pushing strands of Kat’s hair out of her face. “After all, I don’t see what you have to be grateful for. A roof over your head, I suppose.”

For the most part, Melody’s clients were older, wealthy individuals that lamented the limitations of their grandiose fortunes. They’d rant and rave about why they couldn’t have a larger house, a better car, a nicer yacht. Kat was different. All she wanted was a job she could stand, and decent people in her life. Those were the basics of human happiness; they weren’t too much to ask for.

Melody turned on the LyfeModulator and unfolded it. She then adjusted it to form a cone around Kat’s head.

“Load the simulation,” she told the machine, tapping it briefly with her wand. “As per protocol.”

She unraveled a series of cords and wires from a compact container inside the LyfeModulator. She counted down from thirty, and in that moment the device flashed, illuminating the room in its purple light. The simulation had begun.