Puppet (3 page)

I reach up to try to smooth down my light, reddish-brown hair, wishing it wasn’t so wavy and tangled.  I wonder for a moment if it clashes with my dress, but then dismiss the thought, considering that Jed picked it out for me and asked me to wear it.  Then again, Jed might as well be color blind, in view of his taste and overall crazy nature. 

“...the living marionette!” I hear Jed call and suddenly the curtains are violently yanked away, revealing a blinding light shining directly into my eyes.  I blink a few times, seeing the darkened, distorted faces of the audience just past the glow, like hovering eyes in the dark.  I see Jed at the corner of the stage spread his arms out, proving that I’m real and that he holds no kind of remote control.

My mind skims over the hours of rehearsal Jed made me go through, the things I would do and how I would do them.  Although now, in front of the crowd and blinding light, I wonder if I’ll remember any of it.  My muscles are tense and my mind seems to scream.

“Penelope?” Jed greets me.  “Shall we start with the basic marionette trick?”

I nod and advance to the small table at the edge of the stage.  The hairs on my arms stand on end and every muscle in my body is tense as I try to stare out at the faceless crowd; a sea of murmurs swathed in darkness.  I try to steady my shaking hands as I reach for the deck of cards on the tabletop, positioning them between my fingers as Jed had taught me.  I take one last look at the crowd and one last look at Jed, before shuffling the cards in my hands, dealing them onto the table before Jed can even nod; before the audience can even blink.

I hear soft mumbles throughout the crowd, and their eyes seem to bore harder into my skull, as if burning holes through it.  I turn to Jed.

“Another,” he tells the crowd and then swivels quickly, hurling one stone and then another in my direction.  I catch them within seconds of each other, turning to face the crowd and crumbling them to dust and pebbles on the tabletop.

It’s odd because I don’t feel as if I’ve grown any stronger; it’s as if everything else has somehow become softer and weakened.

The murmurs turn to talking; a blur of unintelligible sound.  Jed beckons for me to come to him and I dart across the stage, faster than any normal human, and the talking becomes elevated. 

A man in the third row suddenly stands up and I squint against the light to try to make out his features.  “Dr. Orville,” he says and Jed inclines his head, although slightly surprised.  “I presume you wouldn’t mind if I inspected your marionette myself.”  It isn’t really a question, more like a statement, but in a way he’s still asking for permission.  I grimace at the use of the word marionette.  Am I no longer human? 

“Of course,” Jed replies and beckons for him to come onstage. 

The man walks up, his eyes on me the whole time.  I want to shrink away, to run away, but I know how hard Jed has worked for this, dreamed of this.  But more importantly, I know how fragile my position is – how easily Jed could send me back.  I can’t leave him.

“I must make sure this isn’t some new elaborate robot,” the man says as he passes Jed.  “I’m sure you understand.”  His tone is feigned congeniality and his smile is fake.  He walks over to me and I resist the urge to step away.  He stands there in front of me for what seems like minutes, although I know it only spans a few seconds.  I meet his gaze with a questioning stare, wondering what he intends to have me do.  Answer questions?  Somehow prove my humanity? 

But suddenly, before I have time to think up a suitable solution, the man reaches out and slaps me across the face.  I let out a gasp of shock as the sting races across my skin; not unbearably painful, just enough to hurt.  I turn back to him, my mouth hanging open, too surprised to register anything.  I hear Jed say something loud and forceful and come our way, but I’m staring into the man’s deep gray eyes.  Just then, anger washes over me and before I can even think, even realize what I’m doing, I’ve hit him back.  Hard.  Harder than I realize.  His head turns violently to the side and he takes a step back, his hand to his jaw.  At first, I feel powerful, invincible, but then I realize how little effort I put forth, and how he staggers backward and I’m suddenly afraid.  Not of him.  But of me.  I stare down at my hand as if it’s apart from me – something else entirely.  A weapon I never asked for but suddenly realize I can never get rid of.     

“Penelope!” Jed hisses, pulling me from my stupor.   

But then I hear laughter, bubbling laughter coming from the man in front of us; the scientist.  He rubs his jaw line and turns back to me, his expression one of pain and amusement mixed together in an awkward, delighted grimace.  I glare at him incredulously, truly wondering how hard the hit was.

“A robot wouldn’t have looked as shocked as you just did,” he states calmly.  “Or have hit me back.”  His eyes glisten with laughter.  “Your name’s Penelope?” he asks, still running his hand over his cheek.  My fear is beginning to wash away at the sight of him – relatively unharmed. 

I nod, shocked even more now at the realization of his method.  And slightly offended.   

“And where did you come from, Penelope?  I trust this man didn’t take you against your will.”

“An orphanage,” I reply.  “I volunteered.” 

A smile creeps across the man’s face.  “You’re quite the little prodigy now.”  He turns to Jed.  “It seems that she’s as real as can be.  And so are her...skills.”  He rubs his jaw for emphasis. 

Jed beams, his smile stretching farther across his face than I thought possible; his blue eyes lighting up with triumph.  I can hear loud murmurs rumbling throughout the crowd, people staring intently up at us; at me.  I can’t tell what’s in their eyes.  Shock, excitement, fear? 

“Congratulations, Dr. Orville,” the scientist says, his tone suggesting surprise and slight awe.  “It looks as if you’ve just created a living marionette.” 

The voices from the audience rise and a few people stand up.  The scientist’s proclamation seems to make it all the more real.  Before, I could just have been a newer version of the robot marionettes, but now I’m a living human who can replace them. 

“How is this possible?” a woman in the front row asks Jed. 

“Manipulating the cells,” Jed replies and then goes off into his spiel about his various scientific methods.  All I remember is the yellow fluid, the sting of the needle, the rush of something foreign and harsh. 

Another scientist ascends the stage, followed by two more.  They all stare at me intently like I’m an animal at an auction and I try to stop my lip from curling in unease.  One of them takes my arm and turns it over in his hands a few times.  He presses his thumb hard against my wrist until I yank it away. 

“So you do feel.” 

“We already covered this,” I snap.  I can still feel the fading sting on my cheek.  I wonder if it’s red.

The scientists move on to listen to Jed’s theories and practices and I take my opportunity to disappear behind the curtains.  We didn’t exactly finish our performance, but the scientists seem satisfied enough.  I pull aside the thick fabric, finally feeling safe as it falls back into place and still darkness surrounds me.  I start as I hear footsteps approaching, only to find that it’s James.  I slump my shoulders in relief. 

“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever been through,” I tell him, trying to focus my eyes in the contrastingly dark lighting. 

James doesn’t greet me, but reaches out to hold my chin, turning my face slightly so he can see my cheek.  His lips are pursed together in an unflattering grimace.  He’s angry.  Really angry.  I can tell because he stops talking when he’s mad. 

“It didn’t even hurt,” I tell him.

“It’s pink.”

“Really?”  I reach up to touch my cheek and he lowers his hand to his side.  He’s silent as he glares through the small slit in the curtains, viewing Jed and the other scientists.  “Seriously,” I assure him.  “Besides, I hit him harder.” 

I see a small grin tug at the corners of James’s mouth and although I know he’s trying not to smile, it slowly sneaks across his face.  “I know,” he says.  “I thought you had really hurt him for a minute.”  His words echo my thoughts so exactly that I frown in sudden confusion.  I wouldn’t have hurt him.  I would never have meant to really harm someone.  Suddenly I feel sick.  And frustrated.  I left the orphanage with Jed hoping for a new start – to do something good, better, and now all I’ve become is...dangerous. 

I follow his gaze to the small sliver in the drapes where Jed and some other scientists are having a heated discussion.  I’m relieved he wasn’t hurt badly.  It took me until the last moment to remember that I wasn’t just Pen anymore, that hitting him as hard as I could, could really hurt him.  Kill him, maybe?  I don’t want to think about it.  My own body is starting to scare me.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t have hit him,” James tells me.  It isn’t accusing, or judgmental; just practical, considering the situation.  We both know I’m not just a girl anymore; a human anymore.  I stare down at my hands.  I know, but I’m not ready to admit it. 

“I would’ve done it for you,” he adds, lightening the mood and I smile.

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I wouldn’t have had as much satisfaction,” I tell him with a grin.  He smirks.  I watch as he looks back in Jed’s direction, the smile fading from his face, replaced by a slight frown.  His lips purse together and I’m wondering if it’s the scientist who hit me, or Jed he’s frowning at. 

I stare at Jed through the small opening in the curtain, watching his arms flail around as he demonstrates some elaborate point, his eyes lighting up and his face animated with excitement.  I’m glad it went well.  For Jed’s sake and for mine.  I’m even glad that his dream came true. 

And now I wonder how far he’ll want to take it. 

5

––––––––

“I
s it magic?” a timid voice asks from the audience, and I see an anxious-looking woman peering up at me through narrowed eyes.  It’s our fifth demonstration; a different stage, a different group of people.  Normal people, common people.  It isn’t scientists who litter the crowd this time and it makes me nervous.  The woman’s comment makes me nervous.  Scientists are...logical.  Most of the time.  Or at least they’re supposed to be.  At least they’re open to ideas, creative, contemplative.   

“No, no.”  Jed shakes his head.  “
Science
.”  He says the world like some people might say the word magic, making it sound powerful and enthralling.  And to Jed, it is.  Magic is merely a fairytale whereas science is real, controlled. 

The woman gives him a puzzled look and then eyes me again.  She doesn’t seem to understand.  Her dark eyes scrutinize me with fearful suspicion while Jed goes on to explain his science in more understandable terms. 

“You know what cells are, I presume?” he asks.

The woman nods warily along with others in the audience. 

“Well, we each have a specific code of our own; one that’s unique to us.”  He gestures his hands in the air while he talks, creating a childlike air about him.  “My scientific work has enabled me to manipulate that code and change the cells.” 

The woman looks slightly horrified; confused yet repulsed.  And I can’t say I blame her.  I’m horrified by what I can do as well.  Each day as I try to do tasks I’ve normally done in the past, everything is different, smaller, weaker.  I’m afraid of myself and what I can do.  Suddenly slamming doors can knock them off their hinges and washing dishes can cause them to break in my hands.  “You can’t change a person’s body.  Not like that,” she says.

“Oh, but I can.”  Jed’s eyes light up and his smile spreads across his face.  His tone isn’t gloating, but candid and almost childish.  I can feel the enthusiasm emanating from him like waves.  The crowd mumbles amongst each other while Jed smiles out at them.

Just then something catches my eye and I look over to see James standing beside the stage, just behind the curtain.  He peers out at me, making a face and imitating the woman in the crowd.  I shrug and smirk, barely noticing as Jed brings our demonstration to a close.  I quickly remember to bow before the curtains are pulled back, leaving Jed, James and I standing in the dim lighting.

“You were lovely, Penelope,” Jed says to me with a radiant smile.  “Wonderful,” he adds as he walks off, although to where, I’m not exactly sure.  Probably to go find an audience member who will listen to his rants.  James watches him go, his eyebrows furrowed in a small frown.  I almost ask him what’s wrong when he notices my gaze and sends me a tight smile. 

I tug my rolled-up sleeve down and suppress an irritated sigh as the edges rip.  It’s as if my clothes are made of napkin paper, now.  I groan.  It almost seems normal now.  My body.  The stages, the lights, the people murmuring, the floating faces beyond the darkness.  Jed calling me his living marionette.

Almost.

I would never trade this new life for the one back at the orphanage, but I had never envisioned my future this way.  As a parentless child, I had always longed to be different, to be normal.  Being adopted, taken away, could be the key.  And after what I’d done while back at the orphanage – the stealing, the dishonesty – it was the only way out.  I think back to Jed’s smile when he had first met me and even after what’s happened, I can’t imagine someone I’d rather have adopt me.  But now I’m more of an anomaly than I was before. 

I guess it’s the adolescent inside of me that urges me to blend in, to be like everyone else.  I wonder what it’s like to go home to parents who love you, to go on to have a family of your own, to look forward and have a good idea of what your future holds for you.  I wonder what it’s like to be normal.

Real.

Because I’ve never felt that way.     

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I
lie on the bed in my room, staring out the window at a red little bird perched on a precariously thin branch.  The whole wall is a window, broken into about a dozen panes, letting in bursts of light that appear as little squares on my wooden floor.  Dirt smudges the thick glass and vines entwine themselves together as they venture up the wall, covering almost half of the window.  I used to think it was odd that Jed’s house was configured this way.  In almost every room there’s a whole wall dedicated to just one glass window, peering out into the thin forestry surrounding us.