The Life We Lead: Ascending (17 page)

They found their seats and buckled in. As the
other passengers settled themselves, Tim pulled a coloring book and
crayons out of his backpack.

“Jim, where did you get those?” James asked
in a low voice.

“They are allowed. I like them,” Tim
whispered rather loudly with some attitude in his voice. “In the
van we have Stow-n-go tables and can use them. This is just like
the van, and it’s not against the rules, Grant.”

James paused a moment, his brain racing.
“You’re right,” he said. He sat back. It wouldn’t be worth the
fight or potential scene to argue. Then he remembered the takeoff
and landing and carefully chose his words. “Jim, you’ll have to put
them away for a short time during takeoff and then again when we
land. You’ll be able to use …”

“Obviously, that is the rule,” Tim said,
handing James the safety card in the seat pocket and pointing to a
picture.

Damn. I should have made Tim a set of
flash cards with pictures. Apparently that solved things
instantly.
James laughed internally.

Aside from Tim getting overly excited about
having a Coke on the plane with a small bag of pretzels, the rest
of the short flight went well. Thankfully, the airport hotel was a
mirror image of the picture they’d seen in the magazine on the
plane. Tim drew a picture of what he thought the rest would look
like, but wouldn’t show James until they had checked in.

“Jim, this is an incredible drawing you’ve
made of the lobby!” James stood at the desk in the room they were
sharing, gazing with astonishment at Tim’s picture. “How did you
know what the 360-degree view would be like from just one side of
the lobby in that picture?”

“The magazine had an outside and inside
picture. I see it and draw it from my internal eyes. It’s all
there. You just have to see.” Tim was trying to organize his
bathroom supplies and seemed to be confused by the toiletries
already there.

James explained that it was okay for these
toiletries to be there. Tim didn’t seem to agree, and he put them
in another bag to give to Byron and Dan as a present. He kept the
mouthwash out of the bag, as it was a “cool looking” color.

A short while later, James discovered that
Tim snored.

Correction. It wasn’t just a snore, but a
snore with a gargling sound.

James sighed. He was a poor sleeper to begin
with, so this was going to be a long night and an even longer trip
than he’d expected, since he didn’t sleep on planes.

“The lights aren’t on. The lights aren’t on.
The lights are
not on
!”

James’s eyes snapped open.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“The lights aren’t on. Why aren’t the lights
on? It’s time to get up and the lights should be on.” Tim was
speaking fast.

“Right. One second,” James fought the
entanglement of blanket and pillows for a moment before freeing his
right hand and turning over to hit the light. He saw the clock
flashing 6 a.m.

Tim’s internal clock was apparently set for
that time, and the lights in his room were probably set to
automatically turn on then, too. James sat up and ran his fingers
through his hair.

“Oh, wait, what time does Jim get up? We did
not discuss that.” Tim peered at James while sitting upright in bed
with a perfectly contented expression on his face.

James chuckled a little.

“What’s so funny? Are you going to answer me
on what time Jim, I mean me, I mean I … I … I …” Tim began to
shake.

“Jim gets up when he needs to,” James said.
“He doesn’t have to have the lights on. Jim doesn’t have to eat at
the same time each day. He eats when he’s hungry, or can eat. He
showers if and when he can or wants to. Jim doesn’t shake or talk
fast when he’s scared or nervous or unsure. He sits still and
smiles.” James said this with a deadpan voice, looking right into
Tim’s face.

“Until we get back to the house with Dan and
Byron, you are Jim.”

Tim stopped shaking and adopted the voice he
seemed to have created for his alter ego.

“We have to get going then. I am hungry and
want breakfast, but I want a shower first.” He gave a small shudder
and stopped. He got up with a smile and went to take a shower.

The rest of the morning went perfectly well.
Tim mostly smiled. Aside from checking his watch repeatedly, he
acted perfectly normal. They left the hotel and boarded the plane
for the first leg of the journey without any issues surfacing. In
fact, the biggest issue was centered around the meal.

“I am not hungry yet. I would like to eat in
about fifteen minutes,” Tim said to the stewardess.

James turned to look at him and let out a
small sigh.

“The chicken pasta, please,” Tim said to the
stewardess. He made a small discrete face at James.

The stewardess handed him a tray across
James’s body and waited, but James was lost in thought, wondering
what just happened.

“She is waiting to hear what you want, dumb
dumb,” Tim said, organizing his tray of food.

“The same, thanks.”

The stewardess gave James a slight smile and
handed him a tray.

James looked back at Tim and tossed his hands
up as if to say, “What was all that?”

Jim smiled slyly. “I sometimes have to eat
when I can. It is the rules.”

“Obviously,” James said, and they both
laughed.

***

In Istanbul, Jim had to have a hat, as
apparently that was his “thing.” After finding the moneychanger,
they got a hat and caught the second flight.

James had always been amazed by the human
body and the control the brain had on it. Tim functioned perfectly
well as Jim and even caught and corrected small glitches he
occasionally made. It was a little scary to see how effectively he
was able to make the switch, but it was comforting, too.

Tim liked the baggage claim area in Osh. “You
can see how it works in parts. Very cool,” he commented.

It was an older conveyor system and very
different from those more commonly seen in the U.S. or in new
airports.

James stepped closer to Tim to explain,
finishing with, “I still prefer my bags being handed to me at the
airport and the valet handling all this.” He’d figured out that
Tim, as Jim, was pretending to be a spoiled rich kid.

Indeed, Tim was careful to move in what he
clearly thought were “rich person” motions. As long as he was
consistent, that was fine. In fact, had the situation not been
what it was, his accentuated motions would have been rather
funny.

They got through customs easily, walked
outside, and saw a number of individuals standing around with
signs, including a man in a suit holding a sign that said
“Ferguson/Mathers.” James waved at him.

The man spoke. “I am Noi. My car is this way,
sirs.”

Noi led them to what looked like a
semi-developed area, almost as if city zoning were trying to
redefine it. A large black SUV with a driver was waiting for them.
Climbing in, the interior was soft, white leather and the windows
were tinted. The center had a mini-bar with a selection of
magazines in the seat pockets; the one in front was
The
Economist
.

Noi sat in the front passenger seat and
turned to engage them in conversation as the driver pulled
away.

“All of the arrangements for your stay are
made based on the itinerary,” he said in a professional tone, as if
he were a concierge. “Tomorrow, we will depart very early at 06:00
in the a.m., as we have a long drive, sirs. Please dress
comfortably, but you may wish to bring a coat. We will have a
vehicle exchange for the last part of the journey that will be a
slightly less comfortable ride. Please feel free to help yourself
to the refreshments in front of you, sirs.”

He gave them a wide grin, exposing a gold
tooth among a lot of yellow teeth. He also had a rather dehydrated,
ashy look despite his fine clothes, which showed hints of yellow at
the collar brim. He was a heavy smoker, judging by his rather
pungent and honestly gross smell.

He continued in his slightly twingy voice,
“If it is acceptable, sirs, we will need to make a stop at my
office. I apologize for this, as I know that you are tired in your
travels, but it is needed, please. We can take care of the
transaction and paperwork, yes?”

James said, “That is fine,” as Tim was
happily drinking another Coke. After a quick glance at James, Tim
nodded too.

The “office” turned out to be a car
dealership. This was, by far, the leading car dealership for a
significant distance around the area, and it offered a variety of
high priced vehicles. As they drove around the lot, James noticed
several cars in the back that didn’t seem to fit with the rest.
They were new vehicles, but lower end cars. Then James saw a Spirit
with writing on the windshield. The left side said, “SOLD” in
English, and the right side appeared to be in Russian.

Immediately to the right of the Spirit was a
large fenced area with other vehicles that didn’t appear to belong.
James didn’t have a clear view, but they looked to be older sport
utility vehicles, some of which had been used by a military force,
judging by the paint.

Noi took them to his office, located at the
back of the building and down a long hallway. The door to the
hallway had a key code security system and mounted camera. The
hallway itself had barren stone walls, a low ceiling of perhaps two
meters, and an unusual floor, a mix of tile for about a meter and
then floorboards. This pattern repeated itself the length of the
hall and seemed to have notching at each of the junctures in the
walls.

The sound of their footsteps echoed loudly as
they walked on the tile, and the floor creaked when they walked on
the boards. James allowed his eyes to follow the baseboards and
suspected sensors hidden at the notches.

After graciously ushering James and Tim into
the surprisingly spacious, lavish office, Noi shut the door and hit
a button. Locks could be heard clicking into place, and a small
monitor flicked on on Noi’s desk that James and Tim couldn’t
see.

“May I offer you some refreshment, or perhaps
fresh fruit?” Noi asked, walking toward a bar area.

Before Noi finished the word fruit, James
spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Rasa, but no, we are fine.” James
deliberately reached into his coat pocket and removed a few
documents and the bond. Tim followed by removing his documents.

One of the rules was for Tim to do whatever
James did when it came to showing documents. Another was not to
accept food or drinks if James had refused them and did not turn to
ask Tim if he wanted some. The expectations set by the rules were
working great so far.

Noi gave his yellow smile and sat at his
desk. Looking in a drawer, he found his tobacco and a lighter.

Tim spoke up in his rich voice. “Please do
not smoke near me. It is rather gross and poor for your health. And
it is stinky.”

James did not visibly react, but his insides
froze for a split second.

“Very sorry, sir. Very sorry. Please, I mean
no disrespect, and yes, I will not smoke,” Noi said quickly. “Thank
you for reminding me of manners to you, sirs.”

James was relieved.

This might just work perfectly. If these
people are used to being spoken down to by rich jerks, then Tim’s
small quirks will be easily dismissed.

They sat for a moment as Noi gathered two
sets of documents. They were the faxes of the passports James had
sent previously.

“Please, sirs, is this you?”

“Yes,” James said.

“Obviously,” said Tim. James moved his right
hand to his knee. They had worked out a signal of James tapping his
right knee with three quick but light slaps as a sign to be quiet
unless very directly, by name, asked a question, which was
different from what had just happened.

Noi smiled, held out his hands, and said,
“Yes, sirs. May I please see the originals?”

They handed him the documents. He compared
them, made a note on a piece of paper that they could not see, and
scanned them before handing them back.

“Please, sirs, come with me.”

He had them stand against the far left wall
before taking facing and profile pictures of them. As they
finished, he took them to a countertop near the bar and slid a
portion of the counter back to reveal a finger printing
station.

Luckily, this older method of finger printing
would take days if not weeks to verify. Tim’s prints could link him
to the assisted living institution and reveal his true identity.
The probability of this group being able to access that information
was extremely small, as it wasn’t part of a database even
accessible by agencies in the U.S, but James would have Tim’s
prints record deleted anyway, just in case. As for himself, he was
wearing a false set of fingertips, so there was no problem
there.

Tim had wanted a “new” appearance like James,
but Tim didn’t like the feeling of makeup, scars, or contacts, so
they’d given him highlights in his hair like he’d seen in a movie.
It didn’t change his appearance much, but it made Tim feel like it
did.

James had made his own ears appear pushed out
and put putty across the bridge of his nose to make it appear wider
and his eyes closer together. He wore contacts to give himself
brown eyes and added a burn type scar to cover the back of his
right hand and wrist.

Noi provided rubbing alcohol to help remove
the ink and they washed up in the sink to the right of the bar.
After getting cleaned up, they returned to their seats.

“Please, now the bond payment for ‘the car.’”
Noi used his hands to make the symbol for quotation marks.

James presented him with the bond, deciding
he must watch a lot of American TV and movies.

“Thank you, sir. Yes, this is all in order. I
have documents for you to sign, please, and we will have your car
ready for you in a few days’ time.” He pulled a stack of papers out
of a drawer. “If you can please sign at each of the tabs, we will
be all set, sirs.”