desperate inquiry into the love life of brooke nescott

8/14/2019 Desperate Inquiry Into the Love Life of Brooke Nescott

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/desperate-inquiry-into-the-love-life-of-brooke-nescott 1/35

Desperate Inquiry into the Love Life of Brooke

Nescott by Devon Pitlor

I. Two women, one hotel room

On Tuesday the twenty-fourth of April, 1997, a blustery

spring day where winter in Aristock seemed to be getting

its last revenge against a warmer than usual March, two

very dissimilar women walked up to the desk of the

luxurious Town Center Inn and rented a room

overlooking the still covered swimming pool. It was a

nice room with a refrigerator full of drinks and had

plush chairs and a kidney-shaped table as well as a cozy

kitchenette. Little chocolate treats were spread across

the bed, and gratis perfumes and sensual body lotions

lined the shelves of the bathroom. As with most quality

rooms, there was a protective sheet across the seat of the

toilet, and thick, embossed towels were stacked by the

turquoise-appointed walk-in shower. A Jacuzzi bubbled

on the balcony, and other small, free amenities lay in

visibly seductive places across the room.

The younger of the women, Brooke Nescott, who just

days before had completed her senior year at Mid-

Central State University and was not only deeply in loan



debt but also quite uncertain about her chances of

finding a job as a microbiologist, had been sternly

warned by the older woman, whose only given name was

Justine, not to disturb anything in the plush room.

“Don’t even eat a chocolate or, above all, do not remove

the seal from the toilet. Use your own toilet before you

come here. Do not take a shower or think about opening

the balcony door. Don’t touch any of the towels and do

not lie on the bed. Use a wet wipe on all the doorknobs

you touch. Sit only in that chair over by the table. Put

your legal pad on the table and take all the notes you

want, but do not use a recorder. It won’t record anything

we say anyway. When we leave each day, wipe off your

part of the table. Make sure you do not leave any

fingerprints on anything.”

Justine, who had a long aquiline nose and rather bushy

eyebrows, although not an attractive woman, was

certainly a noble and commanding one. Her green eyes

were strong and bold, and when she spoke, her voice

issued like that of one whose authority was not to be

questioned. She had an accent that Brooke sometimes

could not understand and often said words that, whilesounding like English, were not quite English. Her age

was visibly older than twenty-two year old Brooke, but

was impossible to guess. Her spine was the straightest

that Brooke had ever seen, and her gait exuded the



energy that comes with having a distinct purpose.

Justine was all business, and Brooke had already had the

business explained to her. It had happened right after

Justine had transferred the sum of ten thousand dollars

into Brooke’s account, and Brooke had agreed to attend

each and every one of the required meetings in a place

yet to be specified by Justine. It turned out to be the

nicest hotel in Aristock--but of course, Brooke would not

get to remain in the room after the meetings and couldn’t

use any of the fine amenities except one chair and the

table.

Justine had apologized for the ten thousand dollars,

saying that it was all that “circumstances” allowed her to

spend but that Brooke’s presence in the room and her

participation were, in fact, worth far more.

In the lobby of the hotel, people came and went, families

with children, business travelers, honeymooners and

church wardens. Brooke knew that in this crowd, Justine

had a companion whose job it was to protect Justine, but

Brooke had no way of knowing who it was or where this

person hid. She had just been told that he was there.

There was a certain strangeness sensed among the hotel

employees as Justine paid in packets of fresh banknotes

for a full week’s rent. Also, Justine signed the



registration card with an odd signature that seemed to be

in a writing unknown to Brooke. Her Pennsylvania

drivers license, however, looked valid enough to convince

the desk clerk that she was who she said she was. The

payment in cash would later be investigated, but nothing

would come of that because the money would go to a

bank by armored car and the serials of the notes had

never been recorded. It was not counterfeit money, but

had anyone chanced to investigate the serials, things

would have not gone as smoothly, and Justine’s unseen

companion would have needed to intervene.

After examining the room and, of course, wiping off any

possible fingerprints, the two women took the elevator to

the lobby and walked into the parking lot. Dutifully,

Brooke handed Justine her car keys, and Justine drove

Brooke back to her apartment. Justine handled the

Honda Accord well now, but at first she had seemed

confused by its controls.

“Never drive to the hotel,” warned Justine. “I will come

and get you and take you in your own car everyday.”

With that, Justine shook hands with Brooke, turned

abruptly and walked away down the busy campus street.

Brooke watched her disappear into the crowds of

students who came and went from the university



buildings. Part of her agreement was not to ask

questions or try to identify who Justine was and where

she came from or went.

Brooke knew only two things: There were ten thousand

real dollars, which she needed, in her checking account

and that Justine was a judge. “You can call me judge

when, and if you need to address me as the hearing

progresses. It won’t matter if you say Justine. We are not

fussy about things like that. But remember that I am the

judge. Judges are impartial. I’m there to see that they

each give you a fair rendition of their cases. After that, I

will be there to verify your verdict. Because in this case

you are the jury, and your decision will be irrevocable

and final.”

II. Another court proceeding

It happened when Brooke Nescott was nineteen and

doing her civic duty on the jury of a city court, the price

she had to pay for voting that year. A Turkish guy, an

immigrant who barely spoke English, had been denied a

claim by his insurance company following an automobileaccident which had arguably not been his fault and

which had left him in a wheelchair. His insurance

company had refused to indemnify him on a technicality

regarding his residency visa and a missing premium and



some other jargony stuff that Brooke, in all honesty, had

not paid nearly enough attention to. During the trial, her

mind had wandered far from the proceedings. She

thought about her class notes from Statistics, and finally

her mind found her undressing the defense attorney, who

was the youngest and most attractive of the two opposing

lawyers. Envisioning herself having sex with the attorney

embarrassed her, and she shook herself back into the dull

and often confusing reality of the trial. The jury foreman

had even chastised her in chambers for being inattentive

and not recording the various facts presented by the two

lawyers. In the end, the Turkish guy got some kind of

settlement, but Brooke forgot how much or even why she

consented to it. She understood very little of the case and

allowed herself willingly to be swayed by the other, more

vocal members of the jury, just in order to get the damn

thing over. And that was what Brooke Nescott knew

about juries and courts. They were for people who paid

attention or cared about such matters. A drab insurance

settlement had been nothing to hold her in thrall, and she

felt both disgusted with the court system and herself for

her less than prepared contribution to what a strange,

dark man from another country either was or was notentitled to. Brooke swore she would never put herself in

a position where she would ever have to make an

uninformed choice again. “I’ll just drop out of the

system,” she said to herself.



And she did. She took a low key civic role right up until

the finish of her senior year when, without warning,

Justine’s commanding voice rang over her phone and

summoned her to a quiet campus café with the promise

of money. From the start, Brooke realized that wherever

Justine came from, she was a person of great importance.

It scared Brooke at first, but the money, initially $300 in

cash just for meeting Justine, made things easier. Also,

Justine seemed to improve as she went along. It was as if

she was learning English better but already knew a great

deal of it. Her accent, one which Brooke had never heard

before, became clearer as she spoke and the strange

words that often punctuated her sentences became fewer

in number. Each time Justine uttered a word that

confused Brooke she would correct herself, apologize and

say something like “I’m sorry. You don’t know that one.”

Naively, Brooke had asked “Do I have to do anything

illegal?”

Justine assured her that nothing would be against the

law, and if it was, Brooke could walk away in a moment’snotice, but that the “case” was vital in ways that Brooke

could never fathom. As they sat there in the dim light of

the café, Justine’s shiny, almost lizard-like green eyes

blazed with such compelling urgency that Brooke



suddenly became afraid to refuse. Whatever this thing

was that involved her, it had necessitated the intervention

of what could have been a veritable she-devil. “Why on

Earth am I so important?” Brooke both asked herself

and then Justine. Justine refused to answer but assured

her that her importance was far greater than she could

ever understand and that details about it would be

“formally” developed during what Justine was already

calling a “hearing.”

Justine stared with intensity at Brooke until Brooke

finally broke down and agreed to attend a meeting for

three hours each day in a private but very safe place in

Aristock. Justine informed her that the money would be

deposited within 24 hours, and it was.

Right before the end of this initial meeting, Justine told

Brooke to resume her life normally in all ways except to

plan nothing between the hours of 8AM and 11AM

during the next week.

Then Justine said something totally out of character:

“Continue to see those guys you have been seeing--both ofthem. Don’t say a word about any of this to either one,

naturally, or to anyone else, as I have told you. But

continue to go out with them. You will one day marry

one of them, and that is mostly what these proceedings



will be about.”

III. Chase and Adrian

Brooke had known Chase since high school, and they had

maintained during their four years of university an on

and off relationship. Chase was handsome, sexy and

promising. So was Adrian--handsome, sexy and

promising. Just like Chase. She had known Adrian only

a short time, but at intervals he seemed to be taking

Chase’s place in her love life. And then Chase would

show up with a bottle of wine and some steaks, and

Adrian would dim briefly in her affection, only to

reignite a day or two later by saying something witty to

Brooke over the phone or laughing with her about

someone’s stupidity while watching the black swans swim

in the park pond. And then Chase would come back with

a flower or a bush he had plucked from someone’s lawn,

and it would be Chase again. Brooke would giggle

uncontrollably at his cute hoodie, red sneakers and baggy

jeans. That was the little merry-go-round that Brooke

had been enjoying for over a year by now, and she didn’t

even attach that much importance to it herself. She hadonly a vague idea of what love was, but she felt carnal

passion for both boys and enjoyed being in their

company equally. As for marriage, that was not in the

front chamber of her mind until Justine put it there.



What had mostly concerned Brooke was being pretty and

sought after, and who cared about anything like marriage

right now? She had a career, a life, to establish. She was

not husband hunting. She just liked company at night

and on weekends, and she wanted to make sure she never

forgot how to like boys…or men…or whatever the two of

them were now. So again WHY? Why was Justine, who

was serious as a watchtower, so damn interested in who

she kept company with? It seemed to bring the whole

thing down a notch, and, had it not been for the real

money, Brooke would have written it off as some kind of

prank sprung on her by some kooky reject she had left

behind in her life. And furthermore, she resented

Justine’s intrusion into her private affairs. What did the

old cranky bitch care about her boyfriends? And why

did she know about them in the first place? It was all so

absurd, save the money. There was going to be this big

“hearing” in a hotel room for five days about a couple of

guys she had been sleeping with. She needed to walk

away right now and give the money back, but Brooke

had been raised to honor promises and decided against

this action.

As they parted ways, Justine shook Brooke’s hand and

then immediately handed her a antibacterial wipe and

motioned for her to use it. “Get some of these and use

them whenever you touch any of us,” Justine said, “just



as a precaution.”

“What are you infected with?” asked Brooke, once again

slightly frightened.

“Nothing I know of,” said Justine. “It is just a

precaution. We like to shake hands as much as you do.

But it is, after all, a way of spreading germs. Don’t be

afraid to wipe your hands when we touch.”

Brooke knew that should have been the final straw, but it

wasn’t. The first meeting remained on schedule for the

following Monday. In the days between, Brooke waited

in vain for responses to her applications and went to a

hockey game with Chase, ate at a Korean restaurant with

Adrian, walked through a dull municipal museum with

Chase, laughing at his lame jokes, went roller skating

with Adrian and blah, blah, blah. If asked to remember

each date, she couldn’t have done it, but the lust of youth

caused her to sleep with each boy at least once before the

“trial” began. They were both what her mother had once

called “eligible bachelors,” but Brooke seriously was not

worried about that. It was all about sex, she kept tellingherself, and it mostly was.

IV. Justine arrives on Monday



As usual, Justine just walked up to Brooke’s door and

knocked, came in, smiled and sat down. Brooke was still

applying some eye shadow, and they were early anyway.

When Brooke came out into the living room, Justine rose

to leave, but a faint buzzing sound seemed to surround

her fit body. Out of nowhere, she extracted a small, pen-

shaped object and began talking into it in a hushed tone.

Brooke noted that it was not English, but sounded like it

could have been from a distance. She decided it was

some sort of creole language made up partly of English

words mixed with some other tongue. She had

vacationed on islands where such dialects were spoken,

though none of the creoles sounded even slightly like the

one Justine was using on her tiny phone. When the

communication was finished, the little telephone just

vanished somewhere into Justine’s tight-fitting, one-piece

suit. More strangeness, thought Brooke.

As before, she handed her car keys over to Justine, who

had to think a minute about which side of the Honda's

steering wheel she needed to put them into. She seemed

lost for a moment. Was it the right or left side? And the

gear lever puzzled her again briefly, but she got the carinto motion and drove skillfully enough the half mile or

so to the Town Center Inn. Brooke sat quietly beside her

in the passenger’s seat. It was an ordinary day in the

campus town. Students darted recklessly across the



crowded streets, and delivery trucks lined the store

fronts. The morning sun came through Justine’s window,

and for a minute or two, it made Justine look almost

horrific. Where did those huge eyebrows come from?

Brooke wondered. Why are her nostrils so wide? The

woman was definitely human but seemed almost too taut

and fit, especially for an older person. Her skin, Brooke

noted, was flawless, and she did not seem to be wearing

any cover makeup.

When they reached the enclosed parking lot of the hotel,

Justine made the mistake of shutting off the Honda’s

engine without putting the car in park. She pushed in

vain at the gear lever until Brooke quietly reminded her

that the motor had to be running before you could put

the car in park. Justine apologized and corrected her

mistake. “We’re early,” she said. “That is not a good

thing. Tomorrow we will have to time it better. Today we

need to wait about five minutes in the car.”

Justine shifted sideways and looked with her usual

intensity at Brooke. “I think you were on a jury once

before,” she began.

Brooke agreed that she had and started to ask how

Justine knew, but checked herself remembering the no

question rule.



“You will be a jury of one,” continued Justine. “The

thing about juries is that they are to determine truth.

You have to listen to each argument and make an

informed decision. The decision you make this week will

have far-reaching consequences for millions of people. I

hope you remember that and listen carefully. Two men

will be speaking to you. Both will have compelling and

detailed arguments. It will be solely up to you to decide

whose argument is the best. That is what a juror does. I

can’t help you with that. I am only here to keep things

fair and…..” Justine couldn’t find the word and said

something garbled again, but corrected herself

immediately and said “fair and legal.”

Brooke nodded her head. She felt like opening the car

and bolting off. Why on Earth did she need to make a

decision that would affect millions of people? Her last

decision, whatever it was, had only affected a Turkish

immigrant in a wheelchair. And that had been bad

enough.

The five minutes passed tensely, and the two women,upon Justine’s signal, alighted from the Honda and

walked straight to the lobby elevators and went to their

rented room.



V. The hearing begins

Justine motioned Brooke into her appointed seat at the

table, again warning her not to touch anything else in the

room. She was still brandishing her sanitary wipes and

used them on anything she chanced to touch. Brooke

wondered why she just didn't wear latex gloves if she was

so afraid of germs. She also wondered, once again, just

what sort of horrific disease she might walk away from

the proceedings with. But she had pledged herself and

needed to stifle this passing fear.

A quick knock came at the door. Justine, wipe in hand,

opened it, allowing two men to enter the room. Once

again, an almost pulsating knot of fear rose in Brooke's

chest, but both men wore extremely pleasant smiles.

Both were dressed in very contemporary business suits

on which Brooke, who liked men dressed in suits,

immediately noted rack creases which had not been

ironed out. The suits, both of them, seemed to have come

directly off the store hangers and showed no signs of

previous wear. Both men seemed perfectly charming.

Neither offered his hand, but both gave Brooke a kind of non-military salute which conveyed respect. Both flashed

a kind of modified hip-hop finger signal to Justine, who

responded in kind. Brooke wondered if it was a kind of

gang sign. She chuckled inwardly at the idea that the trio



might comprise a gang of some sort.

The first man to speak identified himself by the name

Layson. Like Justine, he had only one name. Also like

Justine, the man seemed a little too perfect, too healthy.

He looked like a specimen from a gym poster and carried

his body like a prowling athlete. His skin, like Justine's,

was absolutely flawless, and his nostrils were wide---

something that had always bothered Brooke about

Justine. The second man was less than perfect. There

were some dark hollows under his tired eyes and his

cheeks seemed to sag. Though far from unattractive and

out of shape, he exuded much less perfection than

Layson. He too gave only one name, which sounded like

Armicho, but Brooke had not heard him as clearly as she

had Layson. His presence, likewise, was less

commanding than either Justine's or Layson's. He

moved with a certain strained heaviness and seemed

altogether too ordinary to be in the company of the

others. This comforted Brooke to some degree. A

normal person finally, she thought. Though in time

Armicho, who upon further introduction, became

Darmicho turned out to be anything but normal.

Justine pointed her little penshaped object at Darmicho

and the latter moved closer to where Brooke sat at the

table. Out of nowhere he produced two glossy photos of



both Chase and Adrian and placed them on the table in

front of Brooke.

"I argue for Adrian Albritton and against Chase

Kingsley," he began in a rocky accent quite similar to

Justine's. A string of incomprehensible words then

issued from his lips, and Justine tapped the table with

her device. He started over, and his words became totally

clear this time. The argument began with a short story

about Chase having once pried the top shell off a turtle,

killing the animal instantly. He had done this at age

twelve to find out what was inside.

"Natural boyish curiosity," interjected Layson, looking

at Justine for approval.

"Admitted," said Justine without hesitation.

Darmicho then went forth to recount no fewer than ten

episodes in the life of Chase Kingsley which were clearly

designed to show his less than kind personality. "His

parents had a nasty divorce too," concluded Darmicho.

Time and time again, Layson calmly inserted rebuttals,

all of which were at once approved by Justine.

In the portrait painted by Darmicho, which took over an



hour to deliver and was far too often punctuated by

strange words which he needed to rethink and correct,

Chase Kingsley had a rough and undeveloped part of his

personality which he kept hidden from Brooke. In fact,

according to Darmicho, Chase bordered on being brutal

and was seemingly capable of doing violence to anyone he

became too familiar with. Justine disallowed elaboration

of this idea, much to the satisfaction of Layson.

Then Darmicho shifted his stance, put his thumb on the

photo of Adrian and began recounting multiple virtues

about the twenty-two year old. Brooke was vividly aware

of some of these virtues, not the least of which was that

Adrian had just been admitted to a prestigious law school

and appeared to have a brilliant career before him. Also,

his parents had never divorced (Darmicho seemed very

opposed to divorce) and were, in point of fact, quite well

off. Darmicho also respected money. That was clear. He

concluded the session with a dry summary of every good

thing he had said about Adrian and every bad thing he

had articulated about Chase.

Justine rose to her feet, and the day's work was over.Three hours of dissection of two young men about whom

Brooke had been forced to learn more than what she

actually wanted to know. But she said nothing and was

asked to say nothing.



VI. The second day

Same routine: Justine, the drive, the sanitary wipes, the

arrival of Layson and Darmicho. Only today, it was

Layson's turn. Predictably, Layson was pro-Chase and

anti-Adrian. His words were pronounced with more

strength and confidence than those of Darmicho, but he

often made mistakes and said mysterious phrases that

required correction.

By the end of his three hour spiel, Brooke was becoming

overwhelmed by acres of often trivial information that

would have required a lifetime to gather had she ever

wanted to, and she didn't. She knew she needed to pay

careful attention and took copious notes, but often her

mind wandered. It was all about whom she should

choose as a life's mate---no strike that, about a husband

and maybe a temporary one at that. Relationships didn't

last long in the America of 1997, and Brooke was a child

of her era. What if I married Joe Blow from Kokomo?

she though to herself stifling a grin. What if I joined a

convent? What if I volunteered for the Israeli Army?The proceedings were getting repetitious and boring.

On day three, Darmicho brought forth the turtle story

again and asked Brooke to think about a potential



Upon leaving, Chase said that he would come around on

Saturday and to please reserve the day for him.

In reality, Brooke had had enough of both Chase and

Adrian to last her for a lifetime, and she was relieved that

neither was there to make any amorous demands on her.

Naturally, she asked neither about the multiple

escapades---both good and bad---which had been

revealed as part of their separate biographies, as she

dreaded the arrival of Justine on Thursday and the

compounding, piling and repiling of more of the same.

The whole hearing was a charade, a silly joke taken to an

absurd limit.

Obviously, she would be asked to make a choice between

the two men by Friday, but what weight would her choice

contain? No one had ever told her that she would be

committed to irrevocable matrimony on the spot when

the hearing was finished, only that she would have to

make a choice. Joe Blow from Kokomo was sounding

better and better to her as the trial ensued.

VII. The hearing continues on Thursday

From both Layson and Darmicho came another brief

summary, and then the photos of her two suitors

suddenly disappeared into the folds of Justine's body



suit. Justine called both "attorneys" to the far side of the

room for a brief conference, during which they chattered

feverishly in the almost-English dialect that had puzzled

Brooke so many times before. All three of them were

careful not to touch anything when they stepped away

from the table, and all carried wet-wipes just in case they

did. Brooke was tired, perplexed, overwhelmed and

bored. Trying to seem interested, she kept writing her

name on the roof of her mouth with the tip of her tongue.

Justine returned to the table and stared at Brooke. As

before, neither Darmicho nor Layson took a seat. Each

stood patiently at the side of the table waiting. Layson

was straight, fit, taut and tall, full of energy and vigor.

Darmicho was somewhat stooped and showed minor

signs of fatigue. Justine was her usual purposeful self.

"At this time we need to know if you have any questions

or need any clarifications," said Justine, who then folded

her hands and waited.

Brooke had a thousand questions, but the one she blurted

finally was "Why am I so important?" This was followedby "Who are you, and what do you represent?"

Justine glanced at the two presenters, and they both

raised their eyebrows. Another few phrases in the



strange dialect passed between the three of them, and

Justine proceeded.

"At this very point in your life, you could have been

visited by hundreds of people. In fact, you most likely

would have been either kidnapped or killed by some of

them. Same with Chase and Adrian. However, killing

any of you would have inflicted unknown and most likely

disastrous consequences on the world we live in. It

probably would have caused its total destruction, and so

saner methods prevailed. We are, after all, both civilized

and deeply concerned about the survival of our

civilization. You may have guessed this by now, but we

all come from a precise point in the future, a point which

exists about two hundred years from today. The means

of going backwards in time has recently been invented,

but using it, except in special cases---like yours---is

expressly forbidden. If a person from our era comes here

and disturbs even one eyelash on someone's face, it could

over time have the most extreme of consequences. Time

and events are causal, and the most insignificant thing

done this very moment could wreak monumental and

catastrophic effects on the future. That is why we try toleave as few traces as possible on this room and

everywhere else we go. That is why I drive you here

every morning because as time initially unfolded before

this hearing, you never drove to this hotel yourself, and



we needed to keep it that way. That is why we don't eat

the chocolates or use the toilet or shower. That is why

you can't sleep here at night. When we are finished and

go, all traces of our registration and usage of this room

will disappear. All I can say is that millions of yet unborn

people anxiously await your verdict, your decision to

either make a life with Chase or one with Adrian. In that

way, you are extremely important to the future. In that

way, you determine whether the human race progresses

into its salvation or regresses into its ultimate

destruction. I am not allowed to tell you which because

that is the job of my two colleagues here, but the distant

offspring you produce with one of them will either go

forth and found a great and lasting dynasty of shared

wealth and enlightenment for all mankind or, as you may

hear, a terrible and repressive state of human torment

and abject slavery. In another version, another

marriage, you will remain childless and therefore have

neither an enlightened nor a tyrannical successor, and the

world will simply struggle forward as it always has in fits

and starts, punctuated by wars and periods of moderate

prosperity. In effect, your marital choice in this regard

will render you without importance whatever togenerations unborn. Each of these representatives will

try to convince you that the other is lying and that his

choice of your future spouse is the one who will bring

prosperity and that opting for the other will bring only



servility and chaos."

VIII. Brooke once again listens to two arguments

Layson, on behalf of her eventual union with Chase,

explained that the great- great-grandchildren of that

conjuncture would become the enlightened and

benevolent leaders of a new and unified world wherein

science and arts flourished and every living person was

accorded dignity and the means of a comfortable and

unencumbered survival on a flowering planet well

managed to support all of mankind regardless of the size

of the population. His explanations were lengthy and

detailed, and at one point he called upon Brooke to

carefully examine the physical beauty and healthful glow

that both he and Justine possessed, as compared to the

rather sallow and hunched Darmicho. "Even his name

smacks of inferiority," he exclaimed. "Look at Justine

and me. I am 136 years old, and Justine is much older.

Look at us!"

"Disallowed," shouted Justine. "Leave me out of this.

She has no need to know our ages. And names do notcount."

Darmicho said, of course, that marriage and

reproduction with Adrian would bring about a balanced



and sane society of natural human improvement by

normal evolution, the society which he represented.

"These others are fabrications of an evil and suppressive

coterie, artificial humans, created by their own social

class to pose as Spartans while the rest of us somber in

disease and death. I am old enough myself, but I am at

least human. In my version, society goes on through

good and bad without the need of raising up a class of

supermen. With Adrian there will be no children, and

that may be sad, but there will be no promotion of a

super tyrannical class either, as in a world viciously

dominated by so-called perfect creatures like these two.

They have the arrogance of the lie on their side.

Darmicho began huffing and puffing as he continued. It

seemed as if he was trying to make himself suddenly

more pathetic than he actually was. Behind him Layson

grew suddenly taller and straighter and expanded his

solid chest and flexed his bulging muscular arms. There

was something artificial, Brooke thought, about both of

them.

Justine abruptly ended the proceedings. "Tomorrow you

will ask your final questions to each representative andmake your choice. I assure you that you will indeed

choose either Chase or Adrian because the only two

versions of the future that can develop involve either one

or the other of them. You will not be totally happy with



either man, and you will separate from whichever you

choose after starting or trying to start a family. But you

are fated to choose, and choose you will."

IX. Brooke reviews the case.

That night was not an easy one for Brooke. At first, she

wanted desperately to flee, to run off somewhere where

she could not be found. She remembered the case of the

unfortunate Turkish immigrant. That itself had placed

far too much responsibility on her shoulders, but this

choice was overwhelming and headsplitting. Flight

seemed like her best possibility. She threw a few items

into a travel bag and headed feverishly out the door of

her apartment. But a soft and invisible barrier, an

unseen but yielding wall surrounded her staircase.

Although she could see her Honda Accord in the

driveway, she could not penetrate the soft expanding

enclosure far enough to reach it. It reminded her of an

acid trip she had taken years before as a teenager. She

had tried to walk two blocks to the home of a friend, but

the acid had made her journey totally impossible. The

distance between her and Jenny's house just kept gettinggreater with every step she took, as if the Earth between

them was ever expanding as she moved forward. So it

was tonight. The world was like a soft and bottomless

soap bubble that prevented her from ever reaching her



car. In desperation, she returned to the apartment and

collapsed on the couch. Beside her was a legal pad with

the scribbled notes she had taken over the past four days.

Some, perhaps most, of it was pure nonsense. Some

words she could not even read. It was about Chase and

Adrian and two versions of a future that she alone could

determine. Her mind finally mulled over some of the

information she had received. The arguments had been

balanced. Layson had bleated his case in strident tones

and with unshakeable confidence, whereas Darmicho had

stumbled through his as if trying to reach some

inaccessible point of intensity beyond his actual level of

competence or energy. But each had made an equally

compelling case. The notes offered no relief either and

eventually resolved to a blur under her eyes. She had no

idea which way to turn, what decision, if any, to make.

And finally, exhausted and mentally drained, Brooke just

said "Fuck it." It was a loud "fuck it" and directed

toward no one in particular. The walls rung with the

hollow echo of her voice. "Fuck it."

X. Conclusion: Brooke's decision

Justine called the hearing to order. She casually tossed a

wadded up sanitary wipe across the room into a

wastebasket and then, remembering that this could do



harm to her future world, jumped up at once and

retrieved it. It disappeared like everything else into some

unseen fold of her slim, tight body suit.

Darmicho and Layson were standing as usual. For the

entire week neither of them had ever sat down. Brooke

wondered what dastardly effects their butt prints on

chairs would have made two hundred years from that

Friday. Outside, the bright April sunshine gave the

promise of a beautiful spring, but Brooke chanced to

notice a wayward cloud or two coming over the eastern

horizon. Undoubtedly Justine and her cohorts knew

whether it would rain that day or not. Maybe that was

the question she should ask. Will it be sunny all day?

Brooke mulled over the idea. She still had only the

vaguest notion of what questions to ask. Her main

interest was to end this drama and get on with her life.

Her inability to flee yesterday evening convinced her that

there were a certain number of free will things she was

locked out of by predetermined fate. Making babies with

a man other than Chase or Adrian was probably one of

them. Joe Blow from Kokomo, she knew now, was not an

option.

The issue was far from simple. She had clarified it

somewhat in her mind. It came down to this. She needed

to marry either Chase or Adrian. With one of them she



would have children. With the other she would not.

Darmicho did not want her to have children and Layson

did. Darmicho said her descendants would become

Spartan dictators and suppress the world, and Layson

said they would be enlightened and lead the world into

centuries of peace, enhanced health and social

tranquility. Darmicho promoted Adrian, so logically her

union with him would be barren. Conversely, Layson

favored Chase so Chase would be the fertile one---and so

on back and forth. Layson looked like a perfect human

and Darmicho did not. The real question was if she

married and had the children of Chase, would they be

malevolent or illuminated? Or would the human race

actually progress better if left untouched to develop

without such astounding leaders of any stripe? It didn't

seem to be doing that so far. Maybe having a leader of

any moral standard, good or bad, would be better than

the mediocrity which had always flavored imperfect

human governance.

A dark cloud passed over the sun casting a shadow in the

room.

Brooke searched her mind for a question as the trio

waited patiently. Suddenly, she remembered her botched

jury duty in the Turkish immigrant case three years

before. The crusty jury foreman had made a comment



that had briefly awakened her attention. He had said "X

has done his research better than Y. Lawyers need to be

totally prepared. X has simply done a better job of

getting all the facts." The comment seemed insignificant

to Brooke at the time because due to her lack of attention

she had no idea which lawyer was the better informed.

But today the comment took on a new meaning. Both

Layson and Darmicho had exposed an identical and

balanced number of flaws and virtues regarding her

possible choices. Both had made equally detailed

descriptions of the societal consequences of her decision

as well. Assuming that both lived in a future world that

had sent them to represent their cases to her, it was

obvious that both needed to be provided with infinite

research about both her life and the two possible versions

of the future that she now controlled. Maybe intensive

research was the key. She stared at the competing

sunshine and clouds, which seemed to be doing battle in

the heavens. She had not listened to a weather forecast

that day.

She looked at Layson and asked "Is it going to rain this

morning before we are finished?"

Layson, although bursting with his usual confidence,

cocked his head at Justine questioningly, and when

Justine gave him the nod to answer, said "I'm not sure.



It might."

She asked Darmicho the same question. Without

hesitation, Darmicho said "Yes." Of course, he could

have been faking it.

Then Brooke looked at Justine. "Let me have a recess

until eleven o'clock, and I will immediately make my

choice." Reluctantly, Justine assented, as a recess was

within the rules. "Furthermore," Brooke continued, "I

want to walk in the park across the street and think. I

used to loll around in that park occasionally just on the

spur of the moment, so I don't think it will disrupt

anything in your timelines if I go there now. You already

know that I won't talk to anyone."

Justine warned her that it was necessary to vacate the

room at exactly eleven am, as they had every day. "Be

back no later than ten fifty," she said sternly and flung

open the room door, sanitary wipe in hand.

Brooke strolled out of the hotel and into the little quiet

park. All around her flowers were budding, leavessprouting and early insects buzzing. A class of nattering

school children passed with their teachers. Brooke noted

that not one of them was carrying an umbrella. Teachers

were usually careful about that. Teachers knew about



the weather and were prepared for it on field trips.

Brooke Nescott climbed atop a wooden park table and

stretched out, trying to relax and forget the bizarre

commotion that she had been subject to during the past

few days. It would, she knew, all be over soon. As she lay

upon the table, another dark cloud passed across the sun.

It was followed by another, and the alternation of light

and shadow produced a weary hypnotic effect on her.

She remained in a trance-like state on the table until ten-

forty . Then she got up and started back toward the

hotel. Without warning, a peal of thunder deafened the

air. A few feet farther, and pellets of hard-falling rain

began beating at her head and cheeks. By the time she

reached the door of the Town Center Inn, the rain was

dancing down in sheets.

Darmicho, who favored Adrian, was thus the best

informed, and she told Justine and the others exactly that

upon rejoining them in the nearly untouched room. She

would choose Adrian for that reason---because of the

rain. That was her decision. Eleven o'clock came and

Brooke walked out the door past her astonished companywithout a further word. Avoiding touch, they jumped

aside to allow her passage.

Layson and Darmicho vanished somewhere in the



hallway, and Justine followed Brooke just long enough to

watch her pull out her phone and call Adrian. Sunday

was his, and she wanted to say all the other Sundays too.

Later she would cancel with Chase anything they might

have planned on Saturday, and she would eventually find

a way of making the rupture final.

Brooke decided to leave her car in the hotel garage and

walk in the rain. She found it strange that this did not

matter any more to Justine who was now nowhere in

sight. Maybe her actions did not have all that much

impact on the future world now that she had made her

choice.

Brooke thought about her own future with Adrian. No

kids. And the marriage probably wouldn't last very long.

Or would it?

Brooke no longer cared. In her heart, she knew she had

resolved a much more important matter, but one which

she would not live long enough to verify. But she knew

that in the end she was right. And that was all thatcounted.

All lawyers need to do their research. All of it.



_________________________________

Devon Pitlor November, 2009

desperate inquiry into the love life of brooke nescott

Documents