You’re still stunned to see Mrs. Wilson arrive so early. You’re further ashamed by receiving her under her daughter’s own skin, but it helps weather the news. Even if Jimmy’s bigger than Heather, you’re letting her emotions comfort him with a tender hug.
“I never suspected that at first,” she begins her tale. “To me, he was the same Bradley as before. I could sense he was trying to care. But today...” She stops, swallowing her tears – perhaps hers and Vanessa’s both. “He was unusually cold. He asked me to talk, away from your cousins. I mean – Jimmy's and Heather’s.”
“Sorry about that,” you apologize. “It’s just that, I didn’t receive any answer from you, and since you told me--”
“I know, and it’s alright?”
“What did you talk about?” Jimmy asks, looking at both of you.
“We knew Heather would take advantage of being alone with you, so I told David that if she abused of her authority, he could give her a ‘time-out’.”
“So that’s what it meant...”
“I figured that, since you boys were putting us on out of curiosity--” (Odd that she went for “curiosity” over “hormones”, given your earlier talk.) “--he wouldn’t do anything out of the ordinary.” She must have noticed your bug eyes, as you make her laugh. “I meant anything you’d regret!”
“Well... I was going to do something not very nice to her. Uh, here, of course.”
“What kind of thing?” she inquires.
“Uh... Play.” You point at your groin. “With it. Uh, in private. Trying to, uh... Test something.”
“Well, I won’t question your imagination.” She sighs, looking distant. “I guess I also was victim of my own.”
“How come?”
“I thought being back with him would be magical. Like returning to our time together. But as I felt his rejection, and after that talk...” She realizes where she left off, immediately clinging to it. “He said ‘our’ marriage wasn’t working. That he remained together because of the kids, but that he couldn’t withstand Vanessa’s jealousy.”
“And that’s when he told you about the divorce.”
“He said he made a great mistake at not pursuing me. But that he’d rectify that. I said nothing, but he immediately brought Dennis into the conversation.”
“Must’ve felt terrible to hear what he was gonna tell Auntie Nessie, no?”
“Yeah. In a way, I’m glad I posed as her. She wouldn’t take it well. Even now, she’s on a foul mood – blaming me, even wishing I wasn’t born. She knows she's to blame but doesn’t want to admit it.”
“That’s not good,” you tell her.
“I know. But it hurts. Back then, I would’ve loved hearing it. Now? Now I’m not so sure if I want to.”
“What’s gonna happen then?” you ask. “With Vanessa, I mean?”
She rubs her face, grunting. “I don’t know! I could always wake up Nessie, but how will I tell her that Bradley wants to end her marriage? She’d never forgive me!”
“So you’ll keep her deflated?”
“I need some time to think.” She looks at you, defeated. “It’s harder to do so when you’re wearing Heather.”
“Should I take her off? I mean – I have to return home before dinner, so--”
“Do what makes you feel more comfortable,” she tells you. “I’d appreciate you were off her, though.”
“Alright.” You push Jimmy off your lap, struggling to lift your increased weight. “I’ll go look for my clothes.”
“Can I go with you?” Jimmy asks. You nod, as you figure he must have something to say, or might try to convince you of something.
And it turns out, it’s both. “Hey. Don’t you think this is kinda weird?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“Why would Uncle Brad divorce Aunt Nessie now? If he really wanted to be with Mom, he would’ve done it sooner.”
“I dunno. Maybe his patience has a limit?”
“Dude - if Uncle Brad was that patient to be with Aunt Nessie for over twenty years, he’ll be patient enough to be with her for another twenty.”
“Your mom didn’t stay with your dad that long,” you rebut him.
“Exactly! I know Auntie Nessie pressured him and stuff, but he would’ve cracked sooner.” He turns around, grabbing your arm. “Maybe he suspects something?”
“Suspects what?”
“That Auntie Nessie isn’t her! Maybe Mom did something that made him suspect, and he’s trying to figure things out!”
“Jimmy, besides your mom and us, who else knows about the pens?”
“You got them on the mail, didn’t you? That means someone must’ve made them, and someone must’ve sent them to your house. That means at least one person besides us. But this kind of... I dunno, tech? Those pens couldn’t be done by just one person. There must be more.”
Jimmy might have his mind on girls and pranks, but when he puts it to work, it can surprise you. And that’s when it hits you. “Hold on. When your aunt visited your mom, the day I was showing you this stuff and wearing her... She mentioned something about your uncle working at some big electronics company, right?”
“Uh-huh. Wolfram Electronics. Why?”
“What if Wolfram Electronics made these pens? And your uncle, because of his position, knows about them?”
“And if he knows about them...” Jimmy’s eyes open wide. “He must suspect someone’s inside Auntie Nessie!”
“Shit. We should tell your mom. Go back to her and tell her to wait for me while I get my clothes and change up.”
“Ignore them! You can look for them after we tell her that.”
He’s got a point, so you backtrack into the living room. Inside, Jimmy addresses his mother, who’s distraught and deep in thought. “Mom! What if Uncle Brad knows?”
“How could he know?”
“David here... uh, he recalled Auntie Nessie telling him – uh, telling him while he was wearing you – that Uncle Brad works for Wolfram Electronics. What if they made these pens, and he knows about it because of his position?”
“I know they’re a big company, with the resources to match, but why would they make something like that?”
“Maybe it’s for the government? I recall Uncle Brad telling me Wolfram Electronics has a contract with the Department of Defense. They, uh... supply tech to Fort Tyne. What if the pens are meant to be a secret project tied to the fort?”
“Why would soldiers want a pen that can turn people into skins, though?”
“Because... undercover operations!”
“Except this sounds a lot like spy tech,” you point out to Jimmy. “Not military technology. And as far as I know, the CIA and the spy agencies wouldn’t keep that project inside a military base.”
“Still! If they got a contract with the DoD, that means they might be working for a secret project for the CIA, and use their contract with Fort Tyne to deflect attention!”
“Jimmy,” Mrs. Wilson states. “That sounds outlandish.”
“Mom, you’re wearing Auntie Nessie, and David’s wearing Heather. If I were to tell someone, even someone looking at you two, that my mom’s wearing my aunt and my best friend’s wearing my big sister, they wouldn’t believe you. Those things work flawlessly! I mean – you're doing quirks only Auntie Nessie would! And, and...” He points at your waist. “Look at how David’s posing?”
You look at yourself and realize why. You’re resting your fist on one of her hips, when you’d normally slouch.
“If no one would believe me unless you peeled off your faces, wouldn’t they tell me that sounds a bit too outlandish?”
“You’ve got a point.” Mrs. Wilson bites her nail, sucking a lungful of air. “And anyone who works at the project would know.”
“I only suggested it’s a possibility,” you clarify them. “Jimmy was the one that thought someone else must know, and that someone probably made them. Besides – if it’s a secret CIA thing, how did it end in my house?”
“Maybe one of your brothers or sisters has been replaced?” He snaps his fingers, eyes wide open. “What about Nick? He’s rarely at your house. Maybe he’s really a secret agent, or the one replaced?”
That bugs you hard. After finishing high school, Nick decided to study at the same community college Heather studies, except they’re not taking the same classes. Unlike Heather (and Tina), he decided to stay with some friends while studying there, as well as find work at a car repair shop.
You asked him, a few months ago, and he mentioned he preferred an independent life. You’ve hanged with him a couple times, but other than that, you don’t know what he does. He does visit your house once or twice a week – usually on Saturdays – which might rule out the possibility of being an agent of some sort.
But what if he was replaced, and the pens were sent at your house for the agent to turn him back? Or what if he’s a mule for the pens or something?
“It’s been a week, though. Someone would’ve asked by then.”
“True, but don’t ignore the possibility. Thing is, someone else besides us knows about them. Someone must’ve made them. And if Uncle Brad’s company did it, he probably knows about what they do, and probably suspected something.”
“If that’s the case...” Mrs. Wilson stares at the emptiness, her leg trembling madly. “I’m going to need some help. David, I’ll need you here.”
“I need to return home.”
“I’ll accompany you. Get a change of clothes. I’ll convince Marie to let you stay.”
“And where I’m gonna sleep? The inflatable bed?”
“You can sleep as Heather. It’ll make things easier.”
The idea’s tempting. Jimmy would certainly love the idea of having you replace his sister for a while. But if Nick arrives tomorrow, you could probably figure out how you ended up with these. And if the replacement’s tied to Wolfram Electronics, you could alert Mrs. Wilson about it.
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