pays well. It’s been done before.”
“Listen to me. I know I’ve joked with you, but I am being very serious right now. Look at these people. A woman who is in so much debt she faces prison charges for bouncing checks. A sniveling twenty-three year old straight from Harvard says he’s a self-proclaimed journalist. You have a Brooklyn musician without a high school diploma, who works menial jobs. A Roman Catholic Priest who was almost excommunicated because three years ago he was caught in a homosexual affair with a waiter . . .”
“Where are you going with this?” Cal interrupted.
“I’m not done.” Pete followed her with the manuscript. “Another is a retired firefighter. Retired? He’s only forty-two years old? An eighteen year old boy who states right here the highest paying job he’s had was a McDonald’s fry boy. What are his mental qualifications? The worst though is the trained killer. They chose a trained killer?”
“Who do you mean, that Major? He’s a Ranger,” Cal said sarcastically.
“He’s a trained killer and he trains people to kill.” Pete closed the book and slapped it on his hand. “Now . . .” He took a deep breath. “They gave all of you these psychiatric tests. Do you really truly think that all of you scored impeccably high? That somehow all of you are on the same level? This woman with all the debt, you think she’s the same as you?”
“No, but do you actually think I believed that they were going to have us all be equals?”
“Yes, I did. How else do they expect you all to make it? This is proof, Cal, proof.” He held it up to her. “They’re up to something. Now you and I don’t see eye to eye. If you want to go, it is fine with me, but it’s not fine with Joyce. She loves you. She’s worried. Can’t you see that they are going to pit all of you against each other up there? That’s how they’re going to get their results.”
Cal gave a sarcastic laugh as she snatched back her manuscript. “Do you think I’m that stupid? It’s a hundred grand. Of course there are going to be weak people. People that break first, people they don’t have to pay. I’m not one of them. I’m strong enough to pull through this. I need this. And if they want to make me work for my hundred grand, so be it. What do I have to lose?” She headed towards the steps.
Joyce reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her. “What about your life?”
Closing her eyes, Cal tilted her head slowly. “I lost my life seven months ago. I’m on borrowed time.” She pulled her hand away and walked up the stairs.
^^^^
Jake took a slow bite out of an apple as he relaxed on his bed, back propped up feet extended. His manuscript was on his lap, a red marker in his hand. “Two women,” Jake said to himself. “I know you are one of them. Are you the indebted sales clerk? The one with no education and refer to yourself as a self-proclaimed fashion addict.” Jake laughed and shook his head. “Nah, Jennifer, you aren’t her. It must be . . .” he flipped the page, “… Caleen Reynolds A.K.A. Caleen Lambert. Yep . . . it’s you. School teacher…science, expected…Military upbringing…Continuing education in psychology . . . which you stopped.” Jake lifted the page closer to his eyes. “Oh shit.” He saw the reason for her discontinued attempt at furthering her education. He saw her tragedy. “So this is why you dropped off the earth.” With his red marker he circled her name. “So you’re the one who topped me.” He laid down the marker. “Well, since there’s no picture, this background should make you easy to spot. But that’s enough about of you.” Jake flipped to the next page. “Carlos Valenz . A musician?” Slowly shaking his head, he took another bite of his apple and continued learning about the others.
^^^^
Rickie Cettero worked really hard to clean the spot on the floor of his living room. Next, he cleared away empty bags of chips, soda cans, socks and