Flash 01: Out Of The Blue

My computer "dinged" about the time I finished re-reading that section, so I placed a marker in the book and turned to my computer. The processing had completed and I was now presented with a list of two names -- Dr. Alan Simpson and Ginger Drake, my errant wife.

I selected Ginger's name and clicked my mouse. I was then presented with a list of years. I thought this to be curious, so I selected the first year and was presented with a long list of dates. I selected the first, observing it was shortly after Ginger was born. A video screen popped up and I saw two smiling faces.

I recognized them as much younger versions of Ginger's parents and realized this was her first recorded memory. I also noticed this was being presented from her point of view. I looked at the side of the video window and saw "Perspective," so I clicked on it. I was given a choice between "First person" or "Third person." I clicked "third" and the view changed. Now, I was seeing her memory as though looking from an outsider's point of view.

I saw the two adults, standing over a crib, smiling and talking in low tones to the baby inside. The edges of the video were grainy and much of the room's detail was missing. Still, it was heart-warming to see the love the parents had for their young daughter and I caught myself getting a bit misty-eyed watching them.

I exited the video and looked through the dates. Curious, I selected the day of our wedding. I watched her get dressed, her mother helping her. Then I saw her father walk her down the aisle and shake my hand. I nearly cried as I watched the two of us exchange vows, rings and kisses. That was the happiest day of my life to that point.

From there, I searched through the dates and selected one about the time I began noticing changes in Ginger. The video showed her walking into a nicely-appointed office, folders in hand. I recognized the well-dressed man behind the desk -- Chad Fucking Wheeler -- the same guy I had seen in the car that day.

"Here's those reports you requested, Mr. Wheeler," she said, handing him the folders. He looked up, smiled and took the folders, setting them down on his desk without looking at them.

"Thank you, Ginger," he said. "You know when it's just the two of us you can call me Chad, right?"

"Yes... Chad," Ginger said quietly.

"So, have you given any thought to my proposal?" he asked.

"I have, Chad, and I've decided that I can't do it. It's not right. I love my husband, and I can't cheat on him," she said. Good girl, I thought.

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Ginger," he said. "I think you would have had a wonderful future here in the company. Of course, I'll have to report this to HR and the Board of Directors. Chances are they'll just fire you, but there's always the possibility that you may end up facing charges and you could find yourself behind bars. Look, I'm not asking you to leave your husband and run off with me. I'm giving you a way to... work out your little problem."

"But Chad, I've been through all my spreadsheets and reports," she said. "I haven't overlooked anything."

"Yes, but that assumes your original reports were correct to start with," he said. "I tell you what. I'll give you the rest of the day to think about it. Call your husband and tell him you have to work late or you're going out for a drink with the girls after work. Tell him whatever you want. Then meet me here in my office after everyone leaves and we can discuss this in a more... intimate setting. I won't take much of your time. Then you can go back home to your loving husband. Deal?"

"I... guess so, Chad," she said after a while.

"Good. I'll expect to see you at 5:15 sharp," he said, turning back to his work. She nodded her head, then turned and left. I thought I saw tears in her eyes. I fast-forwarded through the day's video, watching her work at her desk. I saw her pull out her phone and call me. I remembered that call. She told me she was stuck on a major project and would have to work a bit late. After she ended the call, she wiped her eyes with a tissue and went back to work.

I fast-forwarded the video and saw her enter Chad's office after everyone else had left. He smiled as he handed her a drink.

"Just something to help you relax," he said. She took the glass and swallowed nearly half of what was in it. "Have a seat, Ginger," he said, motioning to a couch along one wall. She sat down, and I could tell she was nervous. "Take another sip of your drink, dear," he told her. She obeyed, and handed him the glass when it was empty.

"More, please," she said. He nodded his head and poured another drink. I couldn't see what he was doing as his back was turned to me. He turned around and handed her the glass, full of something. She took another long sip and set the glass down.

"So, have you reconsidered my proposal?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"I've thought about it, yes," she said.

"And?"

"How long would I have to do this?" she asked.

"That depends," he said. "We'll have to evaluate your performance. See how well you fulfill your obligations to the board and the clients."

"You realize that you're basically making me a company prostitute," she said. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Perhaps, but only if you're stupid enough to say anything to anyone," he told her. "Of course, if you go along with the program, you'll be paid handsomely. If not, well, your husband may get a nasty surprise in the mail one of these days."

"He'll figure it out, you know. He's not stupid," she said. He chuckled at that.

"Then it'll be your job to make sure he never learns the truth. Now, why don't you slip out of those clothes and get comfortable?" She looked at him for a moment, then began taking her clothes off. The video got fuzzy a few times, but I could still see her dropping her clothes on the floor.

"Better," he said after she was naked. "Now, let's see what you can do with your mouth. On your knees." She silently obeyed and I began to wonder if perhaps he had drugged her. As I watched, she gave him a sloppy blowjob, swallowing his load after he pumped it into her throat.

"Not bad," he said. "Now, lay back and spread your legs like a good slut. Let me show you what a real man feels like." She obeyed without saying a word and he removed the rest of his clothes. I could see his cock was still quite hard, and he appeared to be pretty well-endowed. He got between her legs and slid his hard unprotected member inside Ginger, causing her to moan in pleasure.

At that moment, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. It's one thing to see another man between your wife's legs, but it's something else again to hear her cry out in pleasure. He derided me as he pumped inside her.

"Yeah, that pussy of yours is so fucking tight. Your wimpy husband must not have much of a dick. That's alright, I'll give you the fucking you deserve, not like that little geek you're married to," he sneered. Ginger responded by crying out in pleasure.

"Yes, fuck me. Don't ever stop," she screamed. He pounded her for a bit longer, growling as he did so.

"I'm getting ready to cum inside your pussy, Ginger. Are you ready for it?"

"Yes, please. Do it! Cum inside me. Fill me up," she cried. With a howl, he tensed up as he ejaculated inside her. Then he pulled out and I could see his semen running out of her splayed pussy. I felt like throwing up.

"We're not done yet, sweet cheeks," he said. "Turn over." She obeyed and he thrust inside her again, this time from the back. "You like doing it doggie-style?"

"Yes, I love it," she said.

"Bet your wimpy limp-dick husband never did this, did he?"

"No, never," she said. He smirked as he plunged inside her pussy, filling her pussy with his semen a second time. This went on for a while, until both of them were sated. He pulled out of her and sat behind his desk, where he lit a cigarette. That's where the cigarette smell came from. She sat on the couch, his cum dribbling out of her.

"Not bad, Ginger," he said. "I think the Board will like you. Not to mention our clients."

"What about my husband?" she asked.

"What about him? He's your problem, not mine. Just don't ever breathe a word of this to him or anyone else. You understand?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"And I'll expect you to maintain the same level of output in your work. Just because you're my current whore doesn't mean you get to slack off. Got it?" She nodded her head. "And remember, you're to be available to me at a moment's notice. I don't care what you're doing, or where you're at. When I call, you make an excuse and report to me immediately. Understand?" She didn't immediately respond, prompting him to repeat himself. "I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"I... understand," she said. Unable to take any more of this, I stopped the video. Whatever love I may have had for Ginger died as I watched her with Chad. At that point, I hated her. And him. I began to think that maybe Bill was right about her having to die.

As I processed what I saw and heard, I began to feel sick. My head throbbed and I felt nauseous. My vision began to blur and I thought I was going to throw up. I made my way to the second bathroom, which was just across the hall. Leaning against the bathroom counter, I looked at myself in the mirror.

My face was beet red. My eyes had also turned red and the gold specks were actually pulsating -- flashing. I could see my temples throbbing. The pain and pressure in my head got worse with each passing second. I screwed my eyes shut and turned around, half sitting on the bathroom counter facing the shower.

When I opened my eyes, I felt something rush out of my head with such a force that it nearly knocked me over. I saw the thick shower doors shatter, shards of glass filling the shower stall inside. What the fuck just happened, I asked myself.

When my vision cleared, I saw thick smoke filling the upper half of the bathroom and quickly turned on the overhead fan to clear it before the smoke alarm in the hall went off. The shower door was destroyed and the inside of the shower looked singed. Terrific, I thought.

I realized the pain and pressure in my head was gone and turned to inspect myself in the mirror. My face was no longer red, and my eyes were now blue. The gold specks had also stopped pulsating. I washed my face, then began cleaning up the broken glass. My phone buzzed when I finished sweeping up the last of the glass shards. I looked and saw it was Ginger.

"What?" I asked when I answered my phone.

"Um, it's me, Ginger," she said, sounding scared.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I'm just letting you know that I'm leaving work now and I'm on my way home," she said.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know. We have a lot to discuss when you get here," I said.

"I know," she said. "Cam, please know that I really do love you."

"I'll try to remember that," I said.

"Don't you love me?" she asked. I could hear a sob in her voice.

"We'll talk about that when you get home," I said, trying to keep my anger in check. Ginger wisely chose not to push the issue.

"O... Okay," she said. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah. See you soon," I said before ending the call. I put the phone back in my pocket and thought about the situation. I knew I would have to keep my temper under control around Ginger. I shuddered to think what would've happened if she had been standing where those shower doors were when I... exploded.

It was clear to me that Wheeler had something on Ginger and was using it to control her. But what? I also observed that Ginger's attitude toward me had changed somewhat in the last 24 hours. Over the course of the last several months she had become an unbearable shrew. But lately, she almost seemed contrite. Did something happen recently to brought about that change?

I knew the answers were in her memories, now stored on my computer. But I was hesitant to look, concerned that it would spark another episode. I knew that Ginger would be home within the next half hour, so I decided to make a fresh pot of coffee and use the time to relax.

I waited for her to walk through the door, and I began to get a bit nervous when she hadn't shown up after forty-five minutes. Maybe she stopped at the store to bring something home, I thought. When an hour had passed, she still hadn't shown up. I called her cell but it went straight to voicemail. I began to wonder if maybe she decided to blow me off and go out with Chad or her girl friends.

Another half hour passed and I still hadn't heard anything, so I tried her cell phone again, but my call went straight to voicemail. I started pacing back and forth, coffee cup in hand, wondering what was taking her so long. After about a half-hour, my doorbell rang. I answered to find a uniformed police officer standing there.

"Yes, officer, what can I do for you?" I asked.

"I'm Officer Chandler with Metro PD, sir. Are you related to a Ms. Ginger Drake?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm her husband," I said. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to inform you sir, your wife was in an accident and is currently at Mercy General Hospital," he said.

"Is she alright?" I asked.

"I don't know, sir. You'll have to ask the doctors at the hospital about that," he said. "Do you need me to take you there or can you drive?"

"I can drive, officer," I said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome sir," he said. "I'll escort you there if that's alright. Just follow me."

"Thank you, officer, that would be great," I said. I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Officer Chandler was already back in his patrol car, his lights flashing. I stayed as close to him as I could. It wasn't easy, given that he was driving much faster than the speed limit, his lights and sirens alerting drivers to get out of the way. I jumped out of my car when we got there and thanked Officer Chandler, shaking his hand.

"You're welcome, Mr. Drake," he said. "And I hope everything works out for you." I ran into the emergency room and identified myself. A few minutes later, I was met by a doctor and two police officers, a sergeant and another man in plain clothes. After the introductions, they escorted me to the ICU, where Ginger was located.

"Mr. Drake, I'm afraid your wife took a pretty bad blow to the head and is currently in a coma," Dr. Samuels said. "There were a few other injuries, but those were fairly minor. Frankly, she's lucky to be alive."

"How long do you think she'll be in a coma?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders.

"It's hard to say," he told me. "She could be out for a few days, a few weeks, or maybe even a few months. It's really too soon to say. We'll just have to keep an eye on her. By the way, do you know if she has a DNR -- a 'do not resuscitate' order?"

"As far as I know, she doesn't," I said. He nodded his head, making a note to himself.

The plainclothes officer -- Detective Black -- spoke up next.

"Mr. Drake, did you disable the airbags in your wife's car?" he asked.

"What? No, why do you ask?" I was shocked at the implication of his question. The sergeant spoke up.

"Your wife ran a red light at the intersection of Fifth and Main at a high rate of speed," he said. "She slammed into the side of a garbage truck. Her air bags never deployed and her brakes weren't working."

"We're going over her vehicle now, Mr. Drake," Detective Black said. "Tell me, were there any problems in your marriage?"

"Well," I said nervously, "I just learned she had been having an affair. She called me at 5:00 to say she was coming home. We were going to discuss the issue tonight."

"I see," Det. Black said as he made notes in his pad. "When did you learn of this affair?"

"She admitted it to me last night," I said. "But I never touched her car. I've been out of pocket for nearly a week myself."

"That's right, you're the fellow who got hit by lightning last week over at the golf course. I remember reading about that," he said.

"That's right," I said. "My parents took me home this morning. You can check with Dr. Simpson. He can verify that."

"I will, Mr. Drake. And do you know who was it your wife had an affair with?" he asked.

"Chad Wheeler," I said. "One of her bosses at Nationwide Financial Services downtown." He wrote as I spoke.

"Just so you know, Mr. Drake, we're investigating this as a possible crime," he said. "I'll verify your alibi, and I'll need to speak with you more soon. I suggest you remain in town until our investigation is complete." I heard something else: "Ten to one this is our guy. Probably heard about the affair and had someone fuck up her car. We'll get him, eventually."

"I'm off work all next week," I told him. "Anytime you wish to talk, just let me know."

"I'll do that, Mr. Drake," he said, handing me a business card. "We'll be in touch. Good luck, and I hope your wife recovers soon." His mouth never moved, but I heard, "Bastard" in his mind.

"Thank you," I said before they walked off. I turned to Dr. Samuels. "Can I see her now?" I asked. He nodded his head.

"Of course," he said, leading me to her room. When I got there, I was taken back by her appearance. She was fully in focus, her head and much of her body covered in bandages. She was connected to monitoring equipment and an IV tube was in one arm. A ventilator tube was in her mouth, and I could hear the machine as it breathed for her. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep. I walked to the side of her bed and looked down at her.

"Why, Ginger?" I asked quietly. "Why did you have to do this?" I didn't expect an answer, but I knew her memories held the key. I wasn't sure if I could extract any memories with her being in a coma, but I thought I'd try anyway. I took one hand in mine and held it tight. I felt the initial spark, then a slight tingling in my head as her most recent memories came to me.

I stayed there with her for a while, not sure if she would be able to detect my presence. Seeing her in the bed like that, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. I still had questions and I was still quite pissed at her. I tried to read her thoughts, but got nothing. I didn't really expect to hear anything, but I thought I'd try anyway.

I stayed with her for a while, thinking about what Detective Black told me. I began to wonder if Chad had something to do with this. If he did, would he try to finish the job later? I bent down and whispered in her ear.

"If Chad did this to you, I will find out. And I will make him pay," I told her. I didn't know how I would make him pay, but that was a question for another day. "Get well," I said, giving her a kiss on her cheek. I left the room and went to the nurse's station. An attractive brunette in scrubs came over to me.

"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" she asked.

"Can you please make sure that only close family members visit Mrs. Drake?" I asked.

"Of course, we can do that," she said, making a note on her computer.

"Thank you," I said before leaving. When I got home, I called both my parents and hers, letting them know what happened to Ginger. They were upset to hear that she was in the hospital, and promised to visit her. After speaking with them, I realized I was starving, so I made a sandwich out of Mom's meatloaf and wolfed it down. From there, I headed to my computer.

I downloaded Ginger's most recent memories and waited for the processing to complete. Then I selected the most recent day -- today -- and hit play. I fast-forwarded to a point where I saw her enter Chad's office.

"Well, are we on for tonight?" he asked.

"No, Chad, we're not," she said firmly. "I told you last night I'm finished with all this. I'm through being your company whore. I've decided to try and patch things up with Cam. Hopefully, he won't kick me to the curb."

"Why? He doesn't know anything, does he?" Chad asked.

"Yes," she said. "He figured some of it out. Worse yet, he saw us in your car. He's got video."