The True Lies of the Once Fabulous Killjoys

Ben sat in his usual corner, occupying himself as he did most days. Today he had a jigsaw puzzle of train between his widespread legs. He had a look of intense concentration on his face.

The small bell above the door jingled. Lauren glanced up to see Murray Sinclair, an aging man who always wore a tartan cap and moved with a cane walking stick, enter the clinic. She smiled warmly at him and then swivelled in her chair to retrieve his file from the cabinet.

“Good morning, Miss Lucy,” he said cheerfully when he finally reached the reception desk.

He always got her name wrong, but Lauren wasn’t offended. Lucy was the name of the previous receptionist and the poor man did have Alzheimer disease, so she couldn’t take his mistake to heart.

Lauren smiled once again. “What’s brought you here today, Mr Sinclair?”

“Oh...” he looked puzzled for a moment. Realisation appeared to hit and he looked at her regretfully. “I’m sorry – I’ve done it again, haven’t I? I was only coming out for milk and bread.”

Like her name, Murray Sinclair had a habit of forgetting where he was going, too.

“Don’t worry about that,” she waved theatrically with her hand, “we all make mistakes. Why don’t you take a seat anyway and I’ll get Dr. Lawrence to check you over?”

Murray nodded weakly; he was still feeling embarrassed about coming into the clinic.

Lauren stood from her chair and walked over to the door beside her desk; it was painted white with a gold plaque on it that read ‘Dr. Jeffrey Lawrence, M.D.’ in large letters. She knocked twice on the door and let herself in.

“Dr. Lawrence? Murray Sinclair’s in the waiting room – he lost his way again. Would you mind taking a look at him?”

Jeffrey Lawrence was a man of about forty. He had bright blue eyes and a crop of shaggy blonde hair. His smile was always warm and in the three years that she had worked for him she couldn’t once remember him ever losing his temper.

“I should really get that connecting phone installed; it’d save you from having to come running in here all the time,” he mused, rising from his well-organised desk. “Just take him through to the examination room and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lauren nodded and went off to do as he instructed.

The examination room Dr. Lawrence spoke of was more of shoe box connected to both his office and the waiting room. Inside it was only an examination bench, a few cabinets that ran along one wall and stored medical supplies, and a sink. On the wall with the cabinets was a large archway the led into Dr. Lawrence’s office.

The clinic itself was actually an old two bedroom house that had been renovated into a clinic. The living room had become the waiting room, the bedrooms were turned into Dr. Lawrence’s office and the examination room, and the kitchen was now called the ‘lunch room’. It was a quaint little building, much like everything else in Elmore, but Lauren really liked the homey feeling of it all.

By time Murray Sinclair had been sent on his way, to the general store this time, it was just after one o’clock. Dr. Lawrence followed him out into the waiting room and stood by the reception desk, waiting until the elderly man had left before addressing Lauren.

“It’s been a slow day,” he glanced down at his watch, “I doubt we’ll get many more patients in today, why don’t you and Ben head home for the day? I can handle things here on my own for a few hours.”

Lauren looked down at her son; she wanted to take him home, but the reality was that she desperately needed the money. They’d be okay for another few hours in the clinic.

“Oh, no, we’re fine,” she waved dismissively. “You go out for long lunch, and I’ll call you if anything urgent turns up.”

Dr. Lawrence put on his usual sympathetic look that he always had when he was about to speak to her about something personal. She dreaded that look, but knew that she’d just have to take it if she wanted to keep getting paid. He perched himself on the corner of her desk, crumpling a few stray pieces of paper as he did so, and sighed heavily.

“Lauren, you said you’d be gone for the week, and you come back to work four days early; would you like to tell me what’s going on? I know you don’t like to take time off, but you were so looking forward to going away. It’s got me a bit worried, darling,” he said softly.

Lauren hated it when he called her darling; it implied that they were something more than boss and employee when they weren’t. She had been informed by the local gossip on more than one occasion that he had ‘a big case of puppy love’ when it came to her. As flattering as it was, his feelings weren’t reciprocated. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a handsome face, well defined body, and successful career, because he did have all that, but she just couldn’t picture herself doing anything more for him other than handling his patients. But she did have a weakness when it came to him – she couldn’t help but confide in him about her problems.

“I had an argument with a couple of my friends yesterday, and I just felt the best thing to do was get out of there,” she told him honestly. The memory of it all brought back all the emotions, but she quickly feigned a smile. “I’m alright, though – happy to be back at work! Now off to lunch you go Dr. Lawrence.”

He touched her hand gently – no jolt of electricity or tingling sensation – and gave that same sympathetic face again. “Okay, see you after lunch.”

Like they did most days, Lauren and Ben spent the hour break in the lunch room. They both ate freshly made sandwiches; Ben drank apple juice and Lauren had a strong cup of coffee simply because she needed something to keep her going up until Ben’s bedtime. After Ben had finished eating he began playing with his toy cars. Today he was simulating a car chase with the ‘baddies’. Lauren watched on curiously as he made the ‘pew pew’ noise for the guns and screeched his cars around the linoleum floor.

“Have you ever chased baddies, mummy?” Ben asked, still playing his little game.

She shook her head. “No.” There was a moment of hesitation before she continued – he wouldn’t believe her anyway, not really. “But I’ve been chased by baddies.”

His eyes widened. “Really, Mummy? Really, truly? With guns and bombs? Did they get you?”

Lauren had to laugh at his enthusiasm; it was about the only thing funny about how close he was to the truth. She thought about whether to tell him any more about the ‘baddies’ she had faced, and decided that it would be okay. It’s just a story to him, she reasoned with herself.

“Before you were born, mummy was a special person – a Killjoy – and I used to fight against the baddies with my friends,” she begun. “The baddies used to chase us and try to kill us because we didn’t think the way they did. Lots of people got scared by them and ran away, but we stayed to fight them. And we had special guns – ray guns – and mine was pink and purple and when you shot it pink beams of light would come out of it. And the baddies had ray guns, too, but they had white ones. We were always too fast to get shot.”

“And were Uncle Bob, Uncle Ray, Uncle Gee, Uncle Frankie, and Uncle Mikey all Killjoys, too?” he asked, eyes still wide.

“Yep,” she replied. “And we won against the baddies, so now they’re all gone.”

“Wow!” Ben exclaimed excitedly. “You were cool, Mummy.”

Lauren smiled at her son’s summary of her. She watched as he took his cars and ran back out into the waiting room. She shook her head lightly as she got up from her chair, ready to get back to work.

“That was some story.”

Her head wiped around. Leaning against the door frame was Dr. Lawrence. He wasn’t wearing his white coat, so he’d only just returned from lunch.

Her cheeks coloured out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there, I’ll just get back to the desk.”

As she bustled past him he took hold of her wrist lightly. She met his eyes. His gaze was intense and she was suddenly very frightened of him.

“You never mentioned you were a Killjoy, Lauren.” She remained silent and he let go of her wrist. He eyed her with interest. “I didn’t think that they really existed, seeing as no one ever said they were one.”

“You’ve lived a very sheltered life, Dr. Lawrence,” her voice was small, “Idaho had nothing to do with the war, but California did.”

“You said you were from New York,” he said.

She shrugged and continued down the passageway that led back to the waiting room. “I lied.”



It was Friday afternoon, the busiest day of the week at the clinic, and Lauren was absolutely exhausted by time she pulled into her driveway at four o’clock. She hauled Ben out of his car seat and made her way up the cobblestone path to her pale blue front door.

Things had been different at work for the past few days. Dr. Lawrence only spoke to her to give orders, and he didn’t so much as offer to get her a coffee when he went out for lunch like he usually did. She knew it had to be because of her Killjoy past. Yet another situation where her past messed up her relationships with people, she thought to herself. She was glad that it was now the weekend and that she had a couple of days to collect her thoughts before she arrived at work on Monday, inevitably to see a replacement receptionist before he called her into his office to fire her.

By eight o’clock she had Ben fed, bathed, and in bed, so she could finally take her own shower, and at 8:30pm she was sat in her favourite chair with the pages of a thick novel between her fingertips.

She was about three chapters in when there was a soft knock on the oak front door. The sound sent a chill down her spine and panic coursing through her veins; no one in Idaho went visiting unannounced after dark. Her first thought was of her ex-boyfriend.

No, not now.

She cautiously rose from the overstuffed recliner and tip toed to the alcove by the front door that would allow her to see who was outside undetectably. Her heart was pounding when she pushed aside the curtain fractionally. Nothing could have prepared her for who she saw.

Frank!

She quickly ran to the front door and yanked it open. Within seconds she had pulled Frank into her arms and was hugging him tightly. She stepped back and gestured for him to enter the cottage.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said gleefully. “– wait, how did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Frank said, “but you’d given Bob a really good description of your place, and had said who your boss was. I looked up his clinic, found out where it was, and then just drove around until I found the cottage you’d described.”

Lauren looked out the window and saw the old Trans-AM parked across the street.

“Do the others know you’re here?” Lauren asked, then, “Does Gerard know you’re here?”

Frank shook his head. “No and no. I thought it was best not to tell them – things haven’t exactly been peachy since you left.”

She was hoping her absence had made things better. “How bad are things?”

Frank lowered himself down onto the sofa and dragged his hands down his face before he met her eyes. “Well, Gerard and I are basically over, Mikey has become a complete hermit, Bob is on the warpath, picking fights with anyone who breathes too loudly, and Ray is going between everyone trying to keep what little peace there is left.”

“I’m so sorry, Frank – I’ve fucked everything up,” Lauren said apologetically. “I should have never told Mikey what happened – then he wouldn’t have told everyone and Gerard wouldn’t be acting like this and neither would anyone else.”

“Mikey?” Frank questioned. “Bob’s the one that told us all...”

“What? Bob? But – oh, no... Mikey was telling the truth when he said he didn’t say anything... and I – oh, no... Frank, what have I done?”

Frank stayed with Lauren that weekend and then for the next week. When she went into work on Monday she was thankful that she still had a job, and things were slowly going back to normal between her and Dr. Lawrence. It helped having Frank around in Idaho. She didn’t have to have Ben at work with her for once, which took an immense amount of pressure off her shoulders, because she trusted Frank to watch him. When she got home in the evenings she and Frank would cook dinner together and then they would talk until it was late about her work and their lives.

After Ben had gone to bed on Friday night of the following week the conversation between Lauren and Frank had turned back to life once again.

“You know, Lauren,” Frank said, “I could really get used to the slow paced lifestyle of Idaho. I see why you like it so much.”

“It’s great here,” she agreed. “But Frank – don’t take this the wrong way at all, because you know I love you – but when are you going back to California?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know if I will... Gerard hasn’t tried to call me at all since I’ve been here, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t miss me, so what’s the point in going back?”

“He’s a Way – Way’s are stubborn,” Lauren reasoned. She knew that fact very well herself. “You’re just running away Frank. This isn’t the war, we’re not Killjoys anymore, we don’t have to ‘keep running’ – this is reality Frank. Take it from me, someone who has spent the last five years running, it doesn’t solve anything. You just bottle shit up and eventually what you’re running from you end up running in to. Go back to California, Frank.”

She stood and headed off toward her bedroom.

“Why don’t you?” Frank called after her. She snapped her head back to him. “You’re preaching to me about going back and facing my problems, but look at you; you’re still running away. Why don’t you go back to California?”

“Because I’m not in love with someone back there.” She continued toward her room.

“Bullshit.”

Lauren spun back around. “What did you just say?”

“Bullshit,” Frank repeated, more definitively this time. “Absolute fucking bullshit. I know you’re in love with Mikey – the others may not have realised it, but I have. You were in love with him before you even left for medical school.”

“No I wasn’t – I’m not – in love with him,” Lauren attempted, although even to herself she sounded unconvincing.

Frank shook his head in disbelief. “You keep telling yourself that.”

They dropped the conversation after that. Lauren retreated to her bedroom once she’d check on Ben one final time. As much as she tried she just couldn’t fall asleep, even though she was exhausted after another Friday at work. Frank’s word’s kept circling through her mind.

You were in love with him before you even left for medical school.

What she was most scared of was that Frank might have been right. She swore to herself that night when they had ended up together in his bed that it was just a onetime thing, that it meant nothing. Who was she kidding? Her whole life since then had been built around that night, safe guarding herself from being hurt – not that it had worked, obviously – and putting people at a safe distance.

It didn’t matter, though, whether she loved him or not, she wasn’t going to return to California. There were too many bad memories, too much pain, not enough will power to fix her mistakes.
When the alarm did go off the next morning Lauren felt like she’d only been asleep for a few minutes. She wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but Ben would be up soon and he always came first.

After her night of mental anguish Lauren felt compelled to check her cell phone. She’d had it turned off since she’d left California, too scared that she’d find a message from Gerard. Anyone who needed to contact her knew to call her house or the clinic if she didn’t answer her cell. The screen lit up and she was presented with thirty-eight missed calls and twenty-two text messages. They were all from Bob and Ray, except for two missed calls and a text from Frank... and a missed call from Mikey; he’d left a voicemail message.

Her conscious was debating whether to listen to it or not.

You were in love with him before you even left for medical school.

She hit play.

“Hey, Lauren, it’s me... Mikey, um... you probably guessed that. Look, I know you said to stay away from you, but I wanted to say that I’m sorry for whatever it is I’ve done. I just want you and Ben to be safe and happy. So... just please, call Bob or Ray and tell them that you’re okay. We’re all worried about you. Come back. Um... bye.”

Why did he have to be so caring? He didn’t even ask her to call him back, probably because he knew that she wouldn’t.

Maybe I should call him.