TITLE: Spring in Pride Creek AUTHOR: Elsie E-MAIL: elsiel@telusplanet.net DATE: July 2002 RATING: PG-13 CATEGORY: SR, Post-colonization, 3rd POV DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere SPOILERS: Existence SUMMARY: William's girlfriend recalls the first fourteen months after colonization. DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and William are not mine. No infringement is intended. I was my mother's firstborn. She once told me that she loved me best, because I was her first, making me promise not to tell my younger brother and sister. I kept the secret, reminding myself of it in times when I was feeling low. The thought of being my mother's favorite always brought an indescribable joy to me. Being loved was already such a delight; being loved best surpassed any other thrill I could imagine at my young age. I kept the secret. Even after my mother's death, when the man I thought was my father revealed the horrible truth in a moment of anger. He blamed me for her death, the accusation something I couldn't begin to understand. He was grief-stricken and needed to be furious at someone, I thought. But in actuality, he had decided that I was old enough to hear the truth. The truth turned out to be so incredible that I thought Dad had finally lost the mind I'd always joked he would. I thought for sure that he had gone crazy because of Mom's death. "There's no such thing as aliens!" I laughed, positive that I was the victim of a terrible joke. It had to be a joke. Dad was too young to be senile. He didn't laugh. In fact, the serious expression on his face sobered me up pretty quick. His anger had suddenly dissipated and he sat down at the kitchen table. "I'm sorry," he said to me. I still didn't completely understand. I mumbled something about having schoolwork to finish and ran for my sanctuary, my bedroom upstairs. I didn't even bother turning my viewscreen on; I knew I wasn't going to do any work. I think I must've sat at my desk for hours, staring at the wall. When I went back downstairs, Dad was still at the kitchen table, where I had left him. "Did you always know? I mean...how did you find out?" I asked him. "Lisa told me after you were born," he admitted. The truth staggered me. I couldn't stand up anymore. I let my body crumple to the cool linoleum floor. I didn't believe all of it; I couldn't. That day, I knew that whatever he believed, whatever helped him cope, it was because of one truth: Mark was not my real father. I was not his biological daughter. And there was no way I was letting anyone else know the truth--not that anyone would believe such a ludicrous story anyway. Eleven years later, the truth came rumbling out of the clouds. Up until the moment They actually arrived, I hadn't truly believed Dad. In hindsight, the problems with the swarms down south should have warned us... In my dreams, I was with my family. One minute, we were sitting around the backyard picnic table making fun of my brother's questionably-edible contribution to our Labour Day family barbecue, in the next, we were engulfed by the sudden visible testimony to the existence of UFOs. There was no time to organize my thoughts, rearrange my beliefs. We only had time to run. We only wanted to survive. We were lucky. We were able to hide underground when the bombing began. It turned out that Paranoid Mr. Potter next door was right all along. It was his bomb shelter that saved us. I crouched beside Nina Potter under her mother's vegetable garden and thought about everything I was losing outside: my apartment, where I'd never see my poor fish again; my job at the hospital, my first full-time position; my battered old car... I didn't think about the people left outside. That would've been too hard. When Nina started sobbing uncontrollably, I left her in favor of standing beside my sister. Megan wasn't the hysterical type. Her tears streamed quietly down her face, but she left them alone. I grabbed her hand fiercely while we waited out the dark. We emerged twenty-four hours later, when all that we could hear was silence. The devastation They left in our city was something that I hoped I'd never see again in my lifetime, but I was eternally grateful that we had survived it. I always woke up at this point in my dream feeling the wetness on my face. The worst part of waking up was the remembering. Remembering that I had not been with my family when it happened. Remembering that I had been alone. Remembering that I hadn't spoken to Dad, Nate, or Megan in days. Remembering that I was the only one left. And wishing that I hadn't survived it. The reality wasn't as excessive as my movie-like dream. There was no rumbling spaceship coming down to Earth. Mr. Potter didn't have a bomb shelter in his backyard, even though he was insanely paranoid. In fact, there were no bombs at first. But there were a lot of bees. I hadn't been heroic or anything close to it. In fact, I had been in the basement of my apartment building, about to start a load of whites in the laundry room. Sometimes, I can still hear the buzzing... ----- "Damn!" I cursed under my breath as I realized that I had forgotten the fabric softener upstairs. The generic stuff sold down here was no good. Luckily, I had figured that one out early on--only one disaster in my life involving inappropriate clothing stuck to my pant leg. There was no way I was making the hike up again. Even though I didn't have a full load of laundry to carry up with me just yet, "lazy" would've been my middle name if I had one. I decided to go without. I was about to swipe my credit through when I heard a loud buzzing noise coming from outside. I peered through the tiny window above the row of dryers. It was a bewildering sight. Everything was black. The bush planted beside the window that had been overgrown long ago, the grass, even the sidewalk was black! And there was movement within the painted scene. I soon realized that was because everything was covered in bees! I couldn't believe how loud the buzzing was; it was almost as if they were inside! I swore I could see movement on the ceiling out of the corner of my eye. The window was quickly becoming opaque and my first instinct was to run, but I didn't know where to go. someone said inside my head. I ended up inside the dryer, but not before I had been stung twice. I stayed in the dryer for what seemed like hours. It was quite soundproof in there, yet I could hear what was going on outside inside my head. The screams were the worst. I covered my ears so hard my head hurt, but I could still hear them. The silence scared me as well. It came less than an hour after the bees had arrived. But it didn't last long. I was attempting to walk out of the laundry room when I heard them. If my legs hadn't been so shaky, I would've dashed, but being the Jell-O that they were, I cowardly retreated to the nearest hiding place, a broom closet of some sort. I felt like I was in there for two days. This time, when the silence returned, I made myself count to a thousand before I left the safety of the closet. The silence was deafening. There was no one in my apartment building, no one in the streets, no trace of life anywhere. I don't know how I knew, but I was sure that the bodies had been taken. I wondered if I had gone crazy. It didn't matter. I needed to find my family. I needed to go home. Out of habit, I pressed the button for the elevator. The ding when it arrived was like a shotgun blast to my ears. The doors opened but I didn't get in. I had a sudden flash of being trapped in there when whoever had taken the bodies returned. I ran for the stairs. My apartment was just as I had left it. My three fish circled their tank with an oblivion I craved with my entire being. I suddenly realized that I couldn't hear the sound of the water spilling out of the filter in the tank. What was wrong with me? I moved to touch my ears and remembered the bee stings when I saw the two red blotches on my left forearm. I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, water dripping everywhere. I had dunked my head in a sink full of cold water, trying to feel something, anything. My dark bob was plastered to the sides of my face, almost hiding my eyes from the mirror. I realized that I must be in shock. I could hear the sound of my own breathing, but nothing else. ----- I was alone. No one was in the house. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse, my mind supplied. Although the streets had been quiet outside, I had fervently prayed that somehow my family would be fine as I ran most of the ten blocks from my apartment to the house in which I'd grown up. The prayer became a chant matching the rhythm of my stride as I got closer and closer to my destination. By the time I got to the house, I expected to find everyone there. Megan would be helping Dad in the kitchen. Nate would be watching the football game in the living room. My faith in the power of prayer was immediately shattered when I opened the front door and found emptiness. I walked through the house in a haze. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; if I hadn't expected anyone home, I would've just guessed that everyone had decided to go out today. The quiet house reminded me of my days here, weekends when I was home alone. Nate and Megan would be out with their respective friends and Dad would be next door at Ben and Paula's. I both loved and hated these times alone. I loved the privacy but hated being reminded that I had no close friends. I knew it was my own doing that made this a fact and I sometimes hated it, but I also feared knowing someone too well. Best friends don't keep secrets from each other, and I had the biggest secret in the world. I sat myself down at the kitchen table and waited. Maybe someone would come home soon. Everything would be all right then. I was sure of it. I don't know how long I sat at the kitchen table in my childhood home, but when I returned to my senses, the first thing I noticed was that my hearing had returned. I could hear the whirring sound of the ceiling fan coming from the living room. I could hear the steady humming of the refrigerator. I could hear the ticking of the clock, a hideous object with a yellow flower motif that my mother had won years earlier, hanging on the wall right of the table. I could even hear the clicking noises coming from inside the walls that I had always associated with the house, but didn't know the true origins of. Suddenly, I could hear all the sounds in the house made by machines, but nothing else. I ran outside, desperate for any other kind of sound. The silence that greeted me was deafening. ----- I knew as soon as I awoke that we were not alone. I could hear it in my head. But I knew that Laird wasn't coming back. The Blague, as the survivors had taken to calling Them, had taken him in the middle of the night. I had awoken from my nightmare at that time, knowing instantly what was wrong. In the five months since They had arrived, I had developed this strange ability to read others' thoughts two times before. Once when The Blague first showed up after the bees, and then again a month later, forcing our small group of five to start heading north. Brian and Lily were our first casualties. We were just outside Edmonton. They had been out gathering more supplies for our group and didn't return on time. A day later, two of our men found their bodies, ripped to bits outside a former hardware store. We left almost immediately. Brian and Lily's deaths were the first evidence of what They were capable of. As far as we knew before this, They had only enslaved those who were missing; we had all held out hope for eventual reunions with our loved ones. After this horrible realization, I learned that now, more than ever, I had a secret to keep. The hatred for the aliens surrounded and invaded me. My family had meant everything to me and yet a part of me had been involved in their destruction. I could not fathom how I could be a part of something so dreadful, the impending extinction of the human race. I learned to live with the conflict. I needed to protect my family's honor, if nothing else. I continued to carry the guilt of never thanking my father for loving me despite who I was. By the time we had settled in another town, I was used to pretending and could sometimes forget that I had any connection to Them. It wasn't until I awoke in the middle of the night hearing Laird's final thoughts that I lost the ability to pretend. I knew that The Blague were catching up to us but I couldn't tell everyone, not without telling them the truth. And that was out of the question. I wondered who would have to die this time. ----- To my joyous relief, knowledge of The Blague's proximity didn't come through the death of another one of our group. It came in the form of other survivors arriving in the city on Valentine's Day. I was on kitchen duty that day. Amy rushed into the kitchen, breathless, her blond ponytail swinging, soon after I had started preparing lunch. "There's...people...here!" she announced excitedly, taking me by the shoulders and starting to lead me out before I could react. I had gotten used to Amy's barely-out-of-her- teens antics since she had joined our group three months previously and wondered if she was playing a joke on me. "People?" "Yes! Almost twenty of them!" I almost laughed out loud at what only she could be thinking about. She steered me in the direction of the hotel's biggest conference room, our designated meeting place. It had become the "downtown" of our little world inside the Forrester Hotel. With the entrance of Amy and me, all five members of our community were present. "We" had assumed that Laird had abandoned us two days previously, since he seemed to have vanished into thin air. Doug and Keith stood in the middle of the room, enmeshed in an eager conversation with three of the strangers. No doubt they were happy to have someone new to talk to for once. Jacques was walking to the podium at the front of the room. With his white-enough-to-blind hair, Jacques Fortier was the oldest in our group and had become a kind of leader for us over time. We didn't know much about him but respected his privacy and didn't ask. He had been the first person I stumbled upon, in the junk food aisle at Safeway no less, two days after the bees. I had been so ecstatic about seeing another person that I blatantly ignored the strange thoughts I was picking up from him. And I continued to try to forget everyday. I assumed that I was the only one who knew some unsavory things about him, but I wouldn't reveal them to anyone unless it became necessary. Jacques cleared his throat loudly. "Hello, everyone. Thanks for this gathering. There are six--excuse me, five-- of us here currently and we'd like to welcome the eighteen newcomers to Wilhelmina," he paused and looked to an older gentleman standing a few feet away from him. "I think Mr. Mulder can better explain the purpose of this gathering." I knew before the newcomer took the podium what he was going to say. Although I had known it was coming, it was a disappointment nonetheless. I had really liked it here. Fox Mulder was definitely a strangely charismatic spokesman, if not the leader, of his group. He spoke bluntly, but his eyes revealed his shared disappointment at the news. "...so I'd say the Blague are less than a week away. My suggestion is that we leave within twenty-four hours." Amy gasped out loud, but many people kept their thoughts to themselves. "Mr. Mulder--" Keith began. "Just Mulder." "Mulder, is there any way we can postpone leaving for a week, or at least a couple of days?" "I for one wouldn't want to risk it. Our group has been running from Them for three weeks. Getting further north quickly gives us the best chance for survival." Voices could be heard inside and outside of my head immediately. By the time we'd all decided to leave first thing in the morning, I'd already decided where to spend my last day in town. I needed to escape from everyone's thoughts and I knew my refuge would be the best place. ----- I thumbed the heaviness of the weathered paper as I turned to my favorite page in the book. God, I was going to miss this. Who knew when we'd get to another town with an intact library? It could be months, years! I would've been here much earlier, but I hadn't been able to get away. Even with several of the newcomers helping, kitchen duty had been a big part of my day, especially since our community had suddenly grown four times bigger. Amy had caught up with me every chance she got, blabbing on and on about the newcomers. I secretly wished she'd make some new friends quickly. As the only other female member of our community, I had been resigned to be her confidante, her surrogate sister, her "best bud" for the past few months, and I was starting to crave my independence and privacy. I had discovered the public library soon after we'd arrived in town and within days, had made myself at home there at least four times a week. It didn't matter that no one else agreed that books were important enough for entertainment-- even though we all lamented over the lack of it--and that power would not be restored there. I knew it would be a waste of our resources to heat and light the massive building if I were the only one to use it. I had taken to wearing many layers and bringing a lantern or flashlight with me in case I stayed there too late. Twice, I had fallen asleep among the oak shelves, waking up freezing cold, smelling the dust and mold of an abandoned building. I looked around at the many shelves of books and at my meager stack of six hardcovers. Was there any way I could bring more of these treasures with me? I picked up my books, about to move to another aisle, when I heard the creak of a door. I froze in place, trying to decipher whether it was the wind or something living. For as long as I had started coming here, no one had ever joined me. Even though there were newcomers in town, it was unlikely anyone else would think of coming here now, when it was almost midnight. I wracked my brain trying to listen for signs of another's presence. It was no use. I couldn't hear anything. I had never had any control over my abilities; the thoughts came whenever they felt like it and I didn't know why I expected to be able to manage their reception now. Something that sounded like a footstep on the carpet came out of the darkness. I clutched the stack of books to my chest, too afraid to move to extinguish the lantern on the floor behind me. I hadn't met very many of the newcomers, just the ones who had worked in the kitchen with me, and I had a sudden fear of a stranger who would do me harm. I crouched down low, peering out between the top of a row of books, but couldn't see anything. Unconsciously, I stepped back and nearly tripped over my lantern, dropping one of the books I was holding. Damn! I've revealed my location! I decided that I needed to move right away. I needed to get away from the light. I picked up the fallen book quickly. If I needed to, I could always use the heavy novel as a weapon. Staying as silent as I could, I took slow steps away from the lantern, intending to go towards the back stairs, the opposite direction of where the sound had originated. I found relief in the knowledge that I knew my way around the library in the dark and it was likely that a stranger wouldn't. I had just inched out of what I judged to be the last aisle when I bumped into something solid. Thinking that I had misjudged and had walked into a shelf, I raised my right hand to feel my way along the shelf. My scream came a millisecond after I realized that the shelf was moving. "Jesus Christ!" a male voice shouted in front of me. I heard sounds of scrambling. Before I could drop my books and run for it, the light of a super-powerful flashlight blinded me. "Freeze!" I was commanded. "What are you doing here?" I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision. A gun was pointed at my head, held by steady hands belonging to a male figure in dark clothing, standing less than five feet in front of me. I couldn't see his eyes. If I were able to see his eyes, maybe I wouldn't be ready to pee my pants. My brain immediately told me to answer his question if I wanted to get out of this situation. "Reading?" my mouth managed to get out. The gun was lowered. "You scared the living hell out of me! Why didn't you let me know you were here?" The light was taken off me and the gun put away. "No one's ever here except me. Why didn't you?" Now that my eyes had readjusted to the darkness, I could see the stranger better. As far as I could tell, he was of average height and looks, but very built. He looked non- threatening, but I was still wary. "I didn't expect to find anyone here. I saw a light." I was confused for a minute. Then I remembered my forgotten source of light. "Oh, my lantern." I started to go back for it and the newcomer followed me, letting his light shine slightly in front of me, leading the way. "So, do you always come here in the dark?" I found it strange that this guy was trying to make conversation. The past five months had been lonely for everyone but maybe this guy was a weirdo. Who else would go to a library on their only night in a new town? "It wasn't dark when I got here." The chuckle that emanated from the figure behind me was a surprise. His laughter was rich, deep; it seemed mismatched to his plain voice. "No, I guess it wasn't." I stopped in front of my lantern and debated whether to stay or go. I wanted to stay, but the safety of my refuge had been compromised. If I left, would I regret my decision? I already had enough regrets; I didn't want another one. Ignoring the newcomer, I set my books down on the floor beside the lantern and sat down cross-legged, leaning against one of the shelves. If I don't talk to him will he go away? "You should get home. We're leaving pretty early and if you want to get enough sleep for the trip--" "I'm staying here," I interrupted, hoping my voice sounded assertive enough. "I'd like to be alone, but this is a public place, so I can't make you leave..." I trailed off, giving him the hint as strongly as I could. "I'd like to look around." I'm sure my disappointment was showing. "You don't need my permission. Like I said, this is public property. But if you don't mind, I don't want to be disturbed. Please keep your explorations to a low rumble?" Gee, I sounded like a librarian! The chuckle made an encore. "I'll try." The figure started to retreat. He was almost out of the aisle when he turned back around to face me with a silly, little grin. "Say, were you a librarian before They showed up?" Had he read my mind? I opened my mouth to reply, but he was gone. ----- We had only been on the road for two hours, but my feet were already killing me. Due to lack to electricity to recharge vehicles, we were going by foot. I was wearing the two-hundred-dollar running shoes I'd taken from an athletic store back in Westlock, but now I could feel every pebble under the heavily cushioned soles. I knew we were staying away from the main highways for safety reasons, but I couldn't help cursing the might-as-well-have-been-muskeg we had to plow through. I looked back but couldn't see Amy. I had ditched her twenty minutes ago. She had been going on about Jimmy Somebody, one of the newcomers. I took my opportunity when she stopped to find a snack in her backpack, telling her that I was going to speed up a bit and that she could catch up to me later. I'd known that it would take her awhile. "Hey!" A hand tapped me on the shoulder. If it hadn't been for the male voice, I would've expected Amy. Instead, I turned around to find the newcomer I had encountered last night in the library. "Hello," I said cautiously, trying not to be obvious in my appraisal of him. In the light of day, I realized that he was actually younger than I had originally guessed; he looked around my age. I couldn't help but notice his ruddy cheeks. The strawberry blond locks framing the fair skin of his face looked like they needed a good comb-through. He reminded me of Megan's first boyfriend, the jock with the biggest head I had ever met. He gave me a strange smile. "Mind if I walk with you?" he asked. "I...Uh..." I stammered, trying unsuccessfully to think of a quick excuse." "Don't worry, I don't bite. But if you'd rather be alone..." "Oh no, it's fine," I answered quickly. I didn't want to appear rude. We walked in silence for five minutes or so until he broke it. "You thirsty?" I had avoided looking in his direction until now, and I turned to him, hoping I had what my family called my "pleasant smile" on. He was holding a water bottle out to me. I vaguely remembered seeing him take swigs from it out of the corner of my eye. I was surprised that he was offering his bottle to a stranger. In this day and age, who knew what anyone could be carrying? "No, thank you." He grinned. "I'm not germy," he leaned in and whispered as if we were conspiring partners. I couldn't help it. I laughed. I recognized his voice as he joined me. And that was the start of our friendship. We walked together for another hour or so, before the group stopped for the next break, and I discovered that he had been a psychology grad student before They came. We talked mostly of trivial things, avoiding the pain of personal memories of the past. After our mutual "nice talking to you"s, he had wandered off to find someone during the break, and I realized that I didn't even know his name. ----- It took almost a week, but we found a place that was far enough away from Them that Mulder deemed safe, Pride Creek. Jacques had wanted to stop in High Prairie two days earlier, but after a brief power struggle with Mulder which we all pretended to ignore, he agreed that it was better to be over-cautious than dead. Pride Creek, which had once had a booming population from the oil sands industry, now had a population of two, Trent and Angie, who were elated when we converged into town just after noon. They saw us as their saviors, ending their fear that they were the only two people left on Earth. The end of traveling signaled a renewed sense of action and organization in the group. It was decided that the town's only hotel, aptly named the Pride Creek Hotel, would be our new home. People were assigned both immediate and permanent jobs. This afternoon, I was a food gatherer, and accompanied five others in raiding the pantries of the houses in town. Tomorrow, I would resume a role I had to abandon suddenly almost six months ago. Because of my background Before, I was assigned to work in the town's medical clinic, which was essentially one room in the town hall. I looked forward to it, doing something I was familiar with would help things seem normal again. I was assigned a room on the second floor of the hotel, and by the time I got back there, the electricity, heat, and, water were functional again, much to my delight. After the hottest shower I could stand, I practically threw myself onto the bed, letting the fatigue get its way. I fell asleep, dreaming that Pride Creek had always been my home. ----- I wasn't sure whether to knock or not as I stood at the entryway of the clinic. The heavy door with the glass window was being held open with a tank of oxygen. I could see a woman in a dark green sweatshirt and jeans at the far counter. Her back was to me and she didn't seem to have heard my approaching footsteps. She appeared to be sorting a counter full of supplies. I knocked lightly on the door and waited. The woman continued to work and my nervousness increased. I knocked again. "H-hello?" The woman snapped her head around, her red ponytail swinging. I wondered if this was something new for her, the need for speed being learned quickly in this new time when being ready to run or fight meant survival of the human species. She had a strangely calm look on her face even though her body was giving off the flight vibe. "I'm looking for the doctor," I said quickly. "Dr. Scully?" The woman's body language visibly relaxed. "That would be me," she replied. I must admit, I was a little surprised. I hadn't realized that the doctor was a woman. Dana Scully was petite, and from behind, I had imagined a much younger woman, not someone old enough to be my mother. "Are you the nurse?" she asked. "Yes. Yes, I am. I'm Jessie." I realized that I was still standing at the door and quickly moved into the room. The slight smile she gave me was enough to cinch my anxiety. "I've been used to working alone since Utah. It'll be nice to have an extra pair of hands. It's nice to meet you, Jessie." She moved forward with her hand and after a moment's hesitation, I shook it. Her grip was smooth and firm. "Uh...likewise, Dr. Scully." I felt like an idiot, like someone going to her first job interview. "Please, call me Dana." "Okay...Dana." "I'm just reorganizing the cupboards to my liking," she told me. "As you can probably tell, I like the important things on the lower shelves." "Do you want some help?" "Why don't you start over there?" she pointed to the other side of the room. "We can meet in the middle." I nodded and headed towards the cupboards on the left-hand side of the room. We worked for fifteen minutes or so before Dana broke the silence. "So, Jessie, what field do you--did you--work in?" I looked up from the alcohol swabs I was currently sorting by size. "Oh, palliative care," I admitted, a bit worried about what she'd think. "You?" I asked, expecting emergency, surgery, or something equally exciting as an answer. She didn't look like a family doctor. "Forensic pathology." Dana had a weird look on her face. "Oh, Jessie, what a pair we'll make!" Her mouth made a grimace. "From the dying and the dead to...what? What are we?" ----- "Is this seat taken?" a familiar voice interrupted Jimmy's rant on porn being an art form. Three pairs of eyes looked up at the newcomer, Amy with curiosity, I with surprise, and Jimmy with annoyance, then welcome. "Oh, hey, man, have a seat," he offered. "Thanks," my recent not-germy friend placed his tray down on the table and sat down across from me. "We meet again," he directed at me quietly. "This is Amy and...Jessica?" Jimmy looked at me for verification. "Jessie. Just Jessie," I corrected. "I'm Jake. Jake Mulder." "Any relation to--" I began. "Our illustrious leader?" Jimmy interrupted. "He's my father," Jake said to me. He turned to Jimmy. "And he's not really our leader." Jimmy shrugged in response. "Hi, Jake. Nice to meet you." Amy raised her hand in a little wave from my left. Jake grinned and waved back. I thought it was a bit childish and gave him my hand instead. "Nice to see you again," I said as we shook hands. "We met coming up," Jake explained to Jimmy and Amy. "So where are you from?" Amy asked Jake as she spooned up her canned chicken noodle soup. "All over. I'm...I was visiting my parents in Salt Lake before..." He didn't need to tell us before what, we all knew. "Another American, huh? Jimmy's from the States, too," Amy remarked. "Great Falls, born and raised," Jimmy supplied around a mouthful of cheese and crackers. "And you? Where are you from?" Jake asked Amy. "Red Deer. Jessie's from here, too. Calgary. You're the first person I've met from so far away. You must've started heading up pretty fast after..." "Yeah." Jake stopped stirring his soup and decided to try it. "So what were you taking in school?" Jimmy asked him. "I was working on my doctorate in neuropsychology." "Research?" I asked, picking up my napkin. "Yeah. I guess it's kind of boring, working in the lab--" "You get to work with rats, man?" Jimmy interrupted. Jake laughed. "No, Jimmy. No rats--no live ones, anyway. It's all virtual for me." -----