THE CHANGE - CHAPTER FOUR

PART ONE: WELCOME TO ECHO COVE / INTO THE ZONE

PART ONE

WELCOME TO ECHO COVE

MONDAY, DECEMBER 22

THE MORNING SHIFT

FOUR

The walk from the center of the chaos to the counseling rooms was brief and brisk: past the food court, the pool, and the Black Cat and Rabbit (a fancier bar, lounge, and steakhouse, left over from its Marriott days). These amenities helped the Institute’s hustle and bustle stay out of the small town’s hair, and vice versa. Not to mention the employees who pulled frequent marathon shifts, which was happening more and more.

In fact, Priss had told them, over thirty percent of the staff were now actual full-time residents. And she was one of them – having given up her apartment and put all her stuff in storage – because the commute no longer made sense.

Not to mention those very special individuals who were housed on-site “under observation”. Drs. Coco and Emily had counseled, approved, or rejected only thirty-six of these over the past five years. And ten of them had been in the last two days. This one would be #37.

The counseling room itself used to be part of a suite, so it was spacious as well as cozy, with big comfortable chairs, mellow lighting, and homey decor to put their subjects at ease. The doctors liked it, too, and were fully settled in behind the big executive counselor’s desk – Coco seated, Emily standing – when the knock on the door came, right on schedule.

“Gimme a second,” Emily said, and put herself one step into the Zone…

…and there was clarity there, a way into seeing with more than eyes. A glimpse into soul and deeper substance – beneath and beyond the surface – that was key to her gift, what she brought to the game…

And when she was ready, she nodded her head.

Only then did Dr. Coco take charge, saying, “You may come in.”

As the door opened. And in she came…

…and there was no way for Emily to be prepared for this grinning young light-skinned mixed-race tornado, with her vintage 60’s throwback hippie flower power thang. The suede fringed vest with the peace sign on it, the bell-bottoms jeans hugged so tight to her hips that they looked like second skin, the semi-shredded white t-shirt with the “Black Power” fist…it was like a counterculture cosplay checklist. Ditto with the rainbow headband, the long dangling feather earrings, the big round pink John Lennon sunglasses, and the lovely but now-wilting flower in her hair.

She was also sporting handcuffs, but didn’t seem the least bit agitated by that fact. If anything, she was waaaay calmer and a trillion times more cheerful than the massive State cops who ushered her in, both of whom were very clearly on edge. Especially the blond with the clipboard, and minus the kind-of-hilarious pornstache…

“Well, damn!” the young lady said, sizing up the scenery. “How chill is this?”

Emily smiled, met her gaze. It was open and friendly. “Yep,” she agreed. “Pretty nice, don’tcha think?”

“I really do! It’s super-nice! I bet you have jacuzzies and a sauna!” Then, conspiratorially, “Hey, you think this could be my new secret vacation hideaway?”

Emily laughed, then quickly shut it down, threw a cautionary glance at the poker-faced Dr. Coco.

“Woops! Don’t mind me!” the young woman said, taking her cue. “I just get excited.”

“It’s fine,” Dr. Coco said, motioning to the cop with the clipboard. “Officer, if I may?”

He stiffly stepped forward and handed it to Coco, while Emily leaned over her shoulder to peek. (Even seated, Coco was slightly taller.)

On the clipboard was the young lady’s Real ID, and a release form, should they choose to accept her. Beneath was a dense and immensely detailed police report, a series of compelling and alarming still photos, and a couple of printed notes from Ambrose, sporting the Echo Cove letterhead. Including a couple shots the cops hadn’t seen.

And it was so strange to peruse this very dark report, and then compare it to the sweet and smiling young woman, nonchalantly checking out the decor. There was so little pretense there, aside from the groovy costumery.

So little to indicate just how dangerous she was.

But Emily was sweet and dangerous, too, so she understood the dichotomy. And now that she had a little history to draw on – a little clarifying context – she was even more fascinated by the case that fate had just dropped in their laps.

“Okay,” Dr. Coco said, setting down the clipboard, all business now. “So you’re Martha Lorraine Mosley. Is that right?”

“That it is.”

“Twenty-seven years old.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s correct.”

“And you work the makeup counter at Boardstrom.”

“Well, I did.”

“You don’t now?”

Martha laughed. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think there’s a whole lotta Boardstrom left. And that would include the counter.”

“Hmm,” Coco said, thumbing back to the photos. “Okay. And is there anything you might possibly like to tell us about that?”

“Not especially,” Martha said. “It’s all in that report. I mean, we can talk later, if you wanna read through it. Cuz honestly, I’m a little talked-out on the subject.”

Dr, Emily went in deep, looked for remorse, and didn’t see it. No guilt either. But also no psychosis. This Martha, she saw, was neither unhinged nor malicious. Just clear-eyed and confident, with the sense she had nothing to hide.

Coco turned to Emily, as always in those moments.

Emily gave her the nod.

And that was that.

“Okay. Officers,” Dr. Coco said. “We can take it from here. Martha, have a seat. And could you please take care of those cuffs?”

“Awesome! YAAAAY!!!” Martha did a little dance. “Officers, you may uncuff me now!” The cops looked unsure, but Dr. Coco was emphatic. And the next thing they knew, her lovely aching wrists were free.

Meanwhile, Coco signed the release form and slid it across the desk, keeping the rest of the paperwork herself. Then the cops left, looking back through the door as it closed, and shaking their heads.

“Oh, you guys?” Martha enthused. “I just KNEW this was gonna work out!”

“You know you can really sit down now, right?” Dr. Emily told her. “Any chair you like!”

“I like the brown one!” Floomping down. “Have you guys had breakfast yet? Cuz I’m not all hungry yet, but I will be. It’s been a loooong couple days.”

“I’ll show you the menus when you’re ready,” Dr. Coco said. “But first, let’s just settle in and talk for a bit.”

“Sure!” Martha said. “I can do that.”

“So,” Emily began, looking down at the report, “it says here that you don’t much cotton to liars.”

Martha grinned. “What a fun way to say that! But no. I mean yeah. That’s an issue for me.”

Dr. Coco leaned forward. “So-”

“So why,” Martha said, leaning forward as well, with just a slight edge coming into her voice, “are liars a problem for me? Is that what you’re asking?”

“No, I-” Coco began, while Emily watched closely.

“Cuz frankly, I don’t think I should have to explain why lying is wrong-”

“And you don’t,” Dr. Emily cut in. “Honest to God. We are not big fans of bullshit here. That’s precisely the opposite of how we roll.”

“Oh!” Martha stopped in mid-rev and smiled. “Okay. I really appreciate that. And, I mean, it’s not like either one of you has lied to me yet.”

“How would you know?” Dr. Coco asked.

“Oh, you’ll know when I know. But enough about me. So what’s your story, Doctor-?”

“I’m so sorry.” Shaking her head at her own faux pas. “I’m Dr. Coco Del Salvador-”

“Doctor Kookoo for Coco Puffs?” Martha laughed. ”That’s great! And what do you do, Dr. Koo?”

“Well,” chuckling ever so slightly, “I’m the Head of Research here at the Echo Cove Institute for Inquiry-”

“And what might you inquire about? Like-”

“What do I do, Miss Mosley? I look for patterns. I connect the dots.”

“Ooooo.” Martha leaned in, suddenly liking this game.

“Which means the truth is the only weapon I have, in the fight between bullshit and a world that makes sense.”

“That’s cool-”

“And right now, we’re all just trying to figure out what’s happening with-”

“The Change.”

“That’s right.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Turning now to Emily. “And how about you, Little Doctor Cutie? You must have something up your sleeve. You look like you should be working the kissing booth at a county fair.”

Emily laughed. “ Oh, don’t tell me you’re a psychic, too!”

Martha joined her. “No way!”

“10th grade. Bucks County Fair.”

“That’s hilarious.”

“A buck a smooch. I’ll never do that again.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you. You’d be stuck there all day! So what do you do now, Dr. Smoochy?”

“Well, my name is Dr. Emily James. And I am a paranormal forensic pathologist.”

“Huh. And what do those words mean, in context?”

“Well, that depends. From a psychiatric standpoint, I work with people whose mental abnormalities…”

“Peculiarities…” Dr. Coco corrected.

“...are so extreme that they take on physical form. Like madness made flesh.”

“Wow,” Martha said. “So you must be really busy-”

“On the other hand, I investigate deaths that appear to have no logical explanation…”

…as in that moment, Martha’s eyes blinked shut, and Emily slid behind the lids. Slid into the Zone, where the walls between minds had holes that blinked and flickered open…

…and Emily caught a glimpse of the screaming man on fire, distorted as if on a warping TV. She couldn’t see his features, but she could see the black hole of his screaming mouth, through the smoke and flames...

…and then she was out. Martha looked at her and knew. And the shock on her face said everything.

“So now,” said Dr. Coco, “we want to talk with you about what happened to Liam Pathe-”

“Wait-”

“Because we know you were there, on the night of The Change-”

“Yeah, but-” Martha sputtered.

“And you need to know,” Dr. Emily added, “that you’re not the only one who knows what’s up. Okay? You’re impressive. I like you. But you’re not all that. I’ve been doing this shit since before you were born.”

The doctors paused, giving it a moment to sink in.

Then Dr. Coco took a photograph off the clipboard. A security cam shot. One the cops hadn’t seen. In it stood a tall, dark, handsome man with a gun, caught in the act of firing.

“So you remember this fellow,” she continued.

Martha looked. Sighed. Slowly nodded.

“Yep. That’s Charlie.”

“And how do you know Charlie?”

“Funny you should ask,” Martha said at last, rolling her eyes as her mind drifted back. “Hard to believe it was just five days ago. It doesn’t even seem like the same life at all.”

Find the previous chapters here:

CHAPTER ONE - FIRST MIRACLE OF THE MORNING

CHAPTER TWO - JACUZZIS OR PIRANHAS

CHAPTER THREE - PRESIDENTIAL TEARS FROM HEAVEN