take another step back.” He flips on the porch light. He
does not recognize the young man, but the man closest to the door,
he knows him.
He opens the door. The humid, Friday night air
hits him like a blast from a furnace. “Aaron Singleton? What the
hell are you doing here?”
* * *
Singleton takes another step back as the door
swings open. It never occurred to him the General would greet them
with a gun. What did you expect , he asks himself. It’s
freaking midnight and we just woke up a military psychopath .
Still, the gun startles him.
“ Who’s this?” he spouts, flicking
the gun in Paul’s direction.
Singleton takes a hesitant step forward. “We’ll
get to that shortly. May we come in? I have a proposition for
you.”
Potter’s ice-blue eyes roll away from the young
man and settle back on Singleton. “Proposition? I don’t think
you’re in a position to offer me anything. I terminated your
contract.”
Singleton closes more distance. Potter lifts
the gun involuntarily, but this time, Singleton does not back away.
He meets the other man’s gaze.
The General takes a deep, halting breath,
lowers the gun, and steps aside, allowing Singleton to
pass.
He crosses the threshold with Paul close
behind. Potter flips on the hall light and closes the front door,
then leads them into the kitchen. A flimsy card table surrounded by
metal folding chairs takes up most of the floor space.
Potter drops into one of the chairs and
addresses Singleton, “You have ten minutes.”
“ That’s all I’ll need,” says
Singleton, taking the seat across from Potter.
Paul is content to lean in the
doorway.
Singleton shifts uncomfortably in the chair. He
asks, “How’s the project fairing?”
Potter raises his eyes to the light fixture
above them. He closes them briefly then lowers his head. His eyes
suddenly look extremely tired, cloudy and glassy like a winter
lake. “Let’s just say that after all these years, we still haven’t
found the answers to the problems that have plagued us from the
beginning.”
“ I’m surprised the government hasn’t
shut the program down.”
Potter leans forward and says, “Your ten
minutes are ticking away. Want to get to the point?”
Singleton glances at Paul, takes a halting
breath, and then says, “I have a volunteer for your
program.”
“ A…a volunteer?”
Singleton nods toward Paul. Potter looks at the
younger man with narrowed eyes, as if Paul were a stain in the
carpet. Voice low and full of venom, he asks in quick succession,
“Who is he? Why does he know about the program? And why in God’s
name should I consider using him? ”
Singleton returns with his own string of
questions, “Remember the boy? The one that ran away? The only one
to ever walk away from this program with all his marbles still in
his head?”
Paul grins at this last question. Yes, he
retained all his marbles—but he also gained quite a few in the
process. He pushes away from the wall, approaches Potter, dons his
best smile, and holds out his hand. “Paul Guest.”
Potter stares at Paul’s hand as if it’s a
scorpion’s stinger. His eyes scan Paul, but when he speaks, he
addresses Singleton: “This better not be a sick joke.” Paul watches
his eyes. Even though the menacing tone has not left his voice,
there is a definite glint of excitement in those eyes.
Singleton says, “This is no joke,
General.”
Finally, dismissing Paul with a glare, he turns
to Singleton and says, “You have my attention.”
* * *
He’s completely obsessed , Rob tells
Paul. They had planned for a barrage of questions from the
General—but it looks as if they would not have to work at
convincing him—they hooked him on the first cast of bait. Potter
isn’t going to shake his hand, so instead of continuing standing
there with his hand floating out in front of him, he retreats to
the doorway and resigns himself to lean against the doorjamb
again.
Singleton relays the story he, Paul, Rob,
does not recognize the young man, but the man closest to the door,
he knows him.
He opens the door. The humid, Friday night air
hits him like a blast from a furnace. “Aaron Singleton? What the
hell are you doing here?”
* * *
Singleton takes another step back as the door
swings open. It never occurred to him the General would greet them
with a gun. What did you expect , he asks himself. It’s
freaking midnight and we just woke up a military psychopath .
Still, the gun startles him.
“ Who’s this?” he spouts, flicking
the gun in Paul’s direction.
Singleton takes a hesitant step forward. “We’ll
get to that shortly. May we come in? I have a proposition for
you.”
Potter’s ice-blue eyes roll away from the young
man and settle back on Singleton. “Proposition? I don’t think
you’re in a position to offer me anything. I terminated your
contract.”
Singleton closes more distance. Potter lifts
the gun involuntarily, but this time, Singleton does not back away.
He meets the other man’s gaze.
The General takes a deep, halting breath,
lowers the gun, and steps aside, allowing Singleton to
pass.
He crosses the threshold with Paul close
behind. Potter flips on the hall light and closes the front door,
then leads them into the kitchen. A flimsy card table surrounded by
metal folding chairs takes up most of the floor space.
Potter drops into one of the chairs and
addresses Singleton, “You have ten minutes.”
“ That’s all I’ll need,” says
Singleton, taking the seat across from Potter.
Paul is content to lean in the
doorway.
Singleton shifts uncomfortably in the chair. He
asks, “How’s the project fairing?”
Potter raises his eyes to the light fixture
above them. He closes them briefly then lowers his head. His eyes
suddenly look extremely tired, cloudy and glassy like a winter
lake. “Let’s just say that after all these years, we still haven’t
found the answers to the problems that have plagued us from the
beginning.”
“ I’m surprised the government hasn’t
shut the program down.”
Potter leans forward and says, “Your ten
minutes are ticking away. Want to get to the point?”
Singleton glances at Paul, takes a halting
breath, and then says, “I have a volunteer for your
program.”
“ A…a volunteer?”
Singleton nods toward Paul. Potter looks at the
younger man with narrowed eyes, as if Paul were a stain in the
carpet. Voice low and full of venom, he asks in quick succession,
“Who is he? Why does he know about the program? And why in God’s
name should I consider using him? ”
Singleton returns with his own string of
questions, “Remember the boy? The one that ran away? The only one
to ever walk away from this program with all his marbles still in
his head?”
Paul grins at this last question. Yes, he
retained all his marbles—but he also gained quite a few in the
process. He pushes away from the wall, approaches Potter, dons his
best smile, and holds out his hand. “Paul Guest.”
Potter stares at Paul’s hand as if it’s a
scorpion’s stinger. His eyes scan Paul, but when he speaks, he
addresses Singleton: “This better not be a sick joke.” Paul watches
his eyes. Even though the menacing tone has not left his voice,
there is a definite glint of excitement in those eyes.
Singleton says, “This is no joke,
General.”
Finally, dismissing Paul with a glare, he turns
to Singleton and says, “You have my attention.”
* * *
He’s completely obsessed , Rob tells
Paul. They had planned for a barrage of questions from the
General—but it looks as if they would not have to work at
convincing him—they hooked him on the first cast of bait. Potter
isn’t going to shake his hand, so instead of continuing standing
there with his hand floating out in front of him, he retreats to
the doorway and resigns himself to lean against the doorjamb
again.
Singleton relays the story he, Paul, Rob,
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