Close Up: Exposure Book Three (6 page)

Her meaning was clear. I might as well just give up on any other woman except her because, otherwise, that woman’s life might be in danger just for associating with me.

I hated her more in that moment than I had ever hated anybody.

I despised her because I was afraid that what she was saying was true.

W
hen I got home
, I was exhausted. Seeing my family had exhausted me, and finding out all that I found out about my past exhausted me. And finding out that Asher was having a baby with another woman really was the last straw. I felt like I could lay down and fall asleep for one hundred years, just like Sleeping Beauty.

Scarlett still wasn’t back, so I crawled into bed, and, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was zonked out.

W
hen I finally came to
,
it was around noon the next day. What day was it? It must have been Sunday. I didn’t know. Days were running together, and I felt like I couldn’t slow them down.

If it was Sunday, then the next day was Monday, which meant that maybe I could go back to my work. I knew that Scarlett had called them for me while I was in the hospital, and had explained what had happened. I, myself, had called them, and they had told me to come back when I was ready.

I didn’t necessarily know if I was ready,
per se,
but I did know that I needed something to take my mind off of what was going on with Asher, my family and Nathaniel. Going back to work sounded like the perfect distraction. Perhaps, in going about my daily business, my memory would just suddenly come back to me. Or perhaps I would see some kind of trigger that would help me regain what I had lost in my brain.

Maybe I could even get the assignment that I was apparently working on before the abduction, which was a photo essay on the homeless population around the Port Authority. I couldn’t remember doing that, of course, but it sounded like something that I would really enjoy.

I vowed to just show up at the offices of the
Village Voice
and see if they could put me right back on assignment.

Just then, Scarlett finally returned home. “CJ,” she said, “I’m surprised that you’re here. I thought you would be with Asher on a beautiful Sunday such as this.”

I went over to her and gave her a hug, and, to my surprise, I just started crying. “Oh, Scarlett, I’m so confused about my life right now. I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

She was immediately concerned. “You know, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But that’s actually fine. I mean, not fine, of course, but I had some flashes of memory when Asher told me what had happened. I remembered seeing Nathaniel somehow, and he communicated with me. He told me that he was happy, he forgave me, and he was waiting for me. He even told me that he could have all the cookies he wants,” I said with a smile. “So, I’ve come to terms with all of that.”

Scarlett looked visibly relieved. “Oh, thank God. I was dreading telling you about that. I thought that you would have to start from square one again.”

I then told Scarlett about the email from Emily and meeting her for a drink. Scarlett explained to me that I was in the mental hospital for six weeks after Sophie told me something at Asher’s house that made me finally seek help for my issues.

We talked all that day about how I was during the period of time after Nathaniel’s death. About how I couldn’t leave the house, and how I had attempted suicide when it first happened. She filled in the gap on exactly how I met Asher, too, explaining that I had passed out on the sidewalk and ended up in Asher’s apartment.

“Wow,” I finally said after Scarlett told me all of that. “I was really a basket case, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” she said sadly. “You were.” Then she put her arm around me. “But you’re better, and you not only beat your depression and phobia, but you’ve also beat being abducted. You’re strong, CJ, and you can get through this. With mine and Asher’s help.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, Asher might not be in the picture anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Scarlett looked alarmed when I said that.

“Well, Asher apparently impregnated his ex-girlfriend, Sophie, shortly after he and I broke up.” I shook my head. “It was the final straw, really. I got angry with Asher for holding back on me about Nathaniel and about the abduction, so when he told me about Sophie I just sort of lost it. I told him that I couldn’t trust him.” I chuckled lightly. “I left him in DC, and went straight to my mom’s house. I was talking with my sister on the porch when a Tesla rolled up. A Tesla! I knew right away who was driving it.”

“Yes, I suppose that Asher would drive a car like a Tesla. It’s electric and high performance, so that totally makes sense. Why does that surprise you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess it was surprising because we have just ridden around in limos the whole time I’ve known him. I didn’t even know that he had a personal car.”

“Of course he does. He’s a billionaire. I’m surprised that he doesn’t have a fleet of Teslas. Anyhow, that’s off the subject. Tell me what happened when Asher showed up at your mom’s.”

“He totally butted in and got into it with my mom. She started speaking Italian, not knowing that Asher apparently speaks fluent Italian himself.” I started to laugh. “You should have seen her face when he started to speak to her in Italian. She was caught, and she didn’t like that one bit.”

“Don’t you hate that? You get around English speaking people who know another language, and they start going into that other language, and you know it’s because they’re trying to talk about you without you knowing about it. But good for Asher in calling your mom on her bullshit.”

“Oh, he did, and I loved him for doing that. But when I started to really think about it, I realized that he had been intrusive without asking me first if that was okay. And he didn’t respect my boundaries. So, I guess that he and I are on a break right now.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah. I mean, we didn’t say that we were broken up, but we got into a fight, he kicked me out of his apartment and here I am. I don’t necessarily think that we’re broken up right now, but, at the same time, I don’t necessarily think that we’re together, either.”

Scarlett looked thoughtful. “I’m so sorry, CJ, but I’m just now reacting to the fact that Asher got with Sophie after you and he had broken up. That just seems so weird and random to me, and something about it isn’t sitting right. I just don’t understand why he would do something like that with a woman that he clearly hated.”

I shrugged. “Happens all the time. Two people hate each other, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t like having sex with each other. Sounds like Asher was like that with Sophie.” I felt sad when I said that. “At any rate, it’s not the end of the world. It seems that the whole thing happened after he and I had broken up, so there’s that. And if there wasn’t a child that was going to come out of that whole thing, I might have forgiven him. He was free to do what he wanted to, after all, because he had no loyalties to me at the time.”

Scarlett shook her head. “No, CJ, if he slept with her, then that’s probably something that you shouldn’t forgive, even if you and he were broken up at the time. But that just doesn’t sound right to me. I just don’t think that he would do something like that.”

I felt confused. “Why do you have doubts about it?”

“I just think that he’s not the type who would do something like that. Also, you’ve told me, time and again, how much he hates that woman. Of course, you don’t remember how he felt about Sophie, but I do. I mean, he hired you to get her off his back. Why would he sleep with her after all of that?”

“Well, we’ll just have to see.”

Scarlett was looking at me funny. “CJ, why are you so calm about all of this?”

I sighed. “Because I’m in shock, I guess. I don’t know. It’s just too much to process, between all the revelations and the fight with my family. I’m so exhausted just thinking about it. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to go back to work. At least, I hope I am. I’m just going to show up at the magazine and hope that they take me back right away. I really need something to take my mind off of all this nonsense.”

“That’s a good idea. I just hope that you don’t end up back on the streets with those homeless people.”

“Why not? That sounds like its right up my alley, really.”

“I just worry, that’s all. That’s where you were abducted, after all.”

“Lightning won’t strike twice, will it?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, CJ. I really hope that…”

I rolled my eyes. “Scarlett, I love you for worrying. I really do. But sometimes you’re just a bit of a mother hen. Let’s face it, photojournalism isn’t always supposed to be safe and sanitary. It’s not like being a paralegal.”

“I guess that’s true,” she said with a laugh. “I do have a safe job. I just don’t want to lose you again. I really thought that you were gone for good.” She shuddered. “I don’t know what I would have done in that case.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

She shook her head. “That’s what they say in movies right before.” And then she sliced her hand across her neck.

“That’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then, I’m going to go to work and never come back. I don’t think that people say
that
in movies.”

She laughed. “You’re probably right. I am being a mother hen.”

I laughed too, but there was a part of me that was afraid that what she was saying was true.

I
went
to my job the next day.

“CJ,” a woman said. “It’s so good to see you.”

I smiled. “Hello, uh…”

She looked at me quizzically. “Candace,” she said, cocking her head. “You don’t…”

“I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to be rude, but I was in an accident and I’ve lost a lot of my memory.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m so sorry, I heard that. We weren’t expecting you back so soon. We were supposed to have a meeting about that. About how to approach you.”

“About how to approach me?”

“Yes. I guess that some of the people weren’t sure how badly you were injured. There was talk that you might have a lot of problems when you came back.”

“Well, I’m not really having a lot of problems necessarily. Except for the memory thing, I’m absolutely fine.”

“That’s good. Do you need me to show me to your office?”

“I’d love that. I suppose I need to talk to the editor about what I’m going to be doing, huh?”

“Yes, Sally is in.”

I nodded my head and just kind of stood there, looking at Candace dumbly.

“Oh, you need to know where her office is, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “I do.”

“Follow me. By the way, I don’t think that you’re going to be working with the homeless anymore. I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that.”

I had mixed emotions about that. I thought that was a good assignment for me, really.

“But I think that you might have something related to that. I think that you might be working on a Freegan investigation.”

I smiled. Freegans were people who lived off of recycled food, not out of necessity, but because they don’t want to contribute to the diminishment of resources. Eating food that is thrown away is a way of doing this. The homeless lived the same way, of course, as dumpster diving was a way of life for them as well. So, Candace was right – doing an article on Freeganism would be similar to doing one on the homeless.

I got to the editor’s office, and Sally swiveled around in her chair. She was around fifty, with black curly hair and light blue eyes that were hidden behind glasses with thick dark rims. She smile and stood up when she saw me. “CJ, what a pleasant surprise! I didn’t think that you would be back so soon.” Then she came to me and gave me a big hug. “How are you, kid?”

“I’m okay. I’ve been better.”

“I heard.” She shook her head. “What an ordeal, huh? It’s so ironic, because we have a planned feature on underground sex clubs, and you actually lived it. I would ask you to contribute to this article, but I certainly wouldn’t want to spin you into PTSD or anything.”

“Thanks for that. I don’t think that I’m ready to confront that part of my life. Although I don’t really remember it at all.”

“Sit down,” she said, and I did. She sat on her desk and studied me. “So, you don’t remember what happened? Would you be able to revisit these sites and would that trigger you?”

I shook my head. “I’d rather not. I mean, if I had memories of what had happened, I feel that I could contribute to the article. But, as it is, I have zero memory of all of that, so…I…” I trailed off. I didn’t quite know what to tell her. There was a part of me that was absolutely, positively, terrified of going back to these places. I was afraid that I would get sucked into it again.

“Never mind,” she said with a dismissive wave. “The last thing I want is for you to go all cray. Okay, so I’m going to start you back with something light and easy. There are a group of Freegans who meet at Zuccotti Park every Monday at 6. Go down there and check it out. Befriend some of them, follow them around, and, well, become a Freegan. Are you up for that?”

“Sure. I don’t mind dumpster diving. I used to have a roommate who did that, and I was always surprised by how good the food was that she found in the trash.”

“Good. In the meantime…” At that, she trailed off because the phone was ringing. “I need to get this. I’ll see you later in your office, huh?”

I nodded my head and went back to my office and shut the door. There were a stack of photos on my desk that I was supposed to review, and I started in on that. It was exciting to be there, really, because I always hoped that I would be able to get a job like this when I got out of school.

I
went
to meet the freegans that evening in the park.
I introduced myself to a tall guy with dreadlocks that were held back by a bandanna. With his tattooed sleeve, light eyes and pale skin, he had the laid-back vibe of a hippy. He was also smoking hot.

He barely nodded his head when I showed up. I gave him my hand, and he shook it. His skin was warm yet calloused.

“Hey,” he said. “You must be the reporter who I heard about.”

“I am. My name is CJ.”

“Rob.” He swept his hand around to some of the people who were hanging around the park. “We convene here to talk about our experiences with Freeganism, invite some folks we know, and have some meals with the food that we found.”

I smiled at him using the word “convene.” It was such a formal word, really, and it seemed just a little bit odd coming out of this guy.

I walked with him to a make-shift shelter that had tables and burners of food cooking. There was a pot of meatless chili that looked scrumptious, and another concoction that looked like it was made of a variety of root vegetables. Rice was in yet another burner, and there were all kinds of people surrounding the food with paper plates. They all looked like Rob in many ways, with tattoos, various piercings and ripped clothes the norm.

I realized that I was starving, so I got in line and filled my paper plate with the offerings while Rob told me about how these items were found.

“Basically, this stuff was found in various dumpsters around the city. Pete here is the cook, and he’s able to create some pretty great things with what is found.”

I shook Pete’s hand, and he proceeded to tell me a bit more about the movement. “It’s not just for us,” he said. “Although we all have the same type of ethics, and that is that our world wastes far too much. Our movement is, in some small way, an attempt to recycle some of that waste. When we eat our meals from the dumpster, it means that there is that much less food that needs to be harvested for our needs. It’s no different than using recycled paper or recycled metals.”

I nodded. “You said earlier that it’s not just for you. Who else do you serve?”

He sweeped his hand around, and I noticed that there were several men and women in line who didn’t look like the others. They looked more homeless than hippy. “We find folks who are living on the street and invite them to commune with us here in the park. We always have plenty of food, so we’re always happy to share.”

I smiled, and sat down at a picnic table with about five other Freegans and two men who looked like they lived on the streets. Their clothes were tattered, their teeth were missing, their hair was uncombed, and one of the guys smelled like urine. But, nonetheless, they seemed to get along well with the others.

I had to admit that these people seemed more to be my people than Asher did. The entire idea of anti-consumerism was something that appealed to me and always did. I guessed because it was the way that I was raised. I never had anything growing up, but I didn’t really want for anything, either.

Even so, I felt a pang just thinking about Asher. I did love him, I realized, but there was just such a gulf between us. I wanted, so badly, to overcome it, but I just couldn’t.

I noticed a homeless guy looking at me interestedly while he ate his food. It made me feel uncomfortable, but I tried to hide it. I had no idea what he wanted with me, but he stared at me throughout the meal.

I joined in the lively conversation that the Freegans were having about the upcoming presidential election, and how none of them felt like they could vote for any of the candidates in good conscience, since they were all bought and paid for by special interests. All the while, the homeless dude was still staring at me intently.

“I don’t know,” I said to a girl who was one of the more vocal ones to denounce all politicians and special interests. “Sometimes a special interest can be beneficial. Like, say, Sloane Industries. That is one corporation that does a lot of good in the world, and I know that it’s active in addressing Congress to try to press for favorable trade legislation and the like. And don’t you think it’s best to try to work with the power brokers? How else can we affect change?”

She made a face. “Sloane Industries is just as shady as any other corporation. It exploits smaller companies around the globe that are actually trying to supply this energy to their own country. It’s a juggernaut, so it puts all these local companies out of business, and the workers lose their jobs. The locals who worked so hard in order for their products to get market share find that they’re unemployed by the time Sloane Industries gets a foothold.”

I felt uncomfortable with such a critique, so I went back to my chili and tried to ignore the homeless guy, whose eyes were still boring a hole into me.

“But it does good work,” I said meekly. “If not for Sloane Industries, there wouldn’t be such cheap sources of alternative energy. I do understand that local companies are put out of business by his corporation, but he’s able to supply these energy sources at a price that the people can afford them. So, that makes the energy that much more widespread. I don’t know why that’s considered to be a bad thing.”

“I suppose you support Wal-Mart for the same reason. It makes things more affordable for the everyday consumer. But it’s bad for local businesses. In fact, it’s destroyed them. Sloane Industries is no different, and it’s just as exploitive as Wal-Mart is.”

“I-“ I began, because I really wanted to defend Asher, but the homeless guy who had been staring at me from across several tables was now at my table. He put his hand on my arm.

“CJ,” he said. “Is that you?”

I suddenly understood. He was no doubt one of the guys that I had gotten to know before I was abducted. “It is. I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

He looked hurt. “We spent every day together. My name is Sam.”

I gave him my hand. “Sam. It’s good to meet you again. I’m sorry that I didn’t remember you, but I had an accident, and I lost much of my memory. Please don’t take it personally.”

He nodded his head and seemed to understand. “It was because of the abduction, wasn’t it? That you lost your memory?”

I looked over at the girl I was debating the ethics of Sloane Industries with, and said “would you excuse me?” And then I turned to Sam. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

We went over to a grassy area that was out of the way of the Freegans and all the other people who were milling about the park. “What do you know about my abduction?” I asked him.

“There was a man and a pretty blonde woman who were there. They pushed you into a van and that was the last I saw of you. I’ve worried about you ever since.”

I nodded my head. This was the first time I heard the term “pretty blonde woman” in conjunction with my abduction. I was, quite frankly, surprised.

Then it struck me. Pretty blonde woman. I wondered what Sophie looked like.

I blinked rapidly. Sophie, Asher’s ex-girlfriend, was able to direct him to where I was. Might she have been behind all of it?

But what did that mean? Did it mean anything?

It did mean something. But what?

Was it even her?

“Sam,” I said. “What did this blonde woman look like?”

“Tall, thin, beautiful.”

“Did you tell anybody this? About the blonde woman?”

“No, but I was the only one who saw her. She was only there for a flash. I wasn’t there when that other beautiful blonde woman came around to ask about what happened to you. I’m sorry, CJ, I wish that I could have told somebody about this.”

All of a sudden, I felt that I needed to talk to Asher. Right that very second.

“Would you excuse me, Sam?” I said. “I need to talk to somebody right now.”

“Of course,” he said. “It’s good to see you, CJ. We were all worried about you. We all thought that you were dead. That’s why I was staring at you so much – I couldn’t believe that it was you.” At that, he gave me a spontaneous hug, and I hugged him back. I felt for this guy. I knew that he had been looking out for me, and that meant something.

I went up to Rob, the organizer of the Freegan meal, and told him that I had to beg off for the evening. “But I’ll be back next week, I promise. I also need to get in contact with you to arrange a time when I can come with you on one of these runs. Would that be okay?”

“Sure.”

At that, I called Asher, who picked up on the second ring.

“CJ,” he said. “I was just thinking about you. I’m glad that you called me.”

“Asher,” I said. “We need to talk.”