The War Inside

Life went on like that for a few years, five to be exact. I was seventeen years old that Christmas. I loathed that holiday. It was pointless. The date lost its true meaning. I had become very homesick. I was really depressed and antisocial. I thought that even though I didn’t believe in the holiday, I still should have gotten Aaron a gift.
I bought him a black tie and some argyle socks. A while back on a mission, we were cleaning up a mess we’d made and the only way to do that was to start a fire. We didn’t have anything to start it so I used his tie. I wrapped the gift and put it on his desk earlier this evening.
All the other agents were at the annual Christmas party, which I never attended. I stayed in one of the older rooms near my office. It had a grand piano in it. It also had a couple tables with a few chairs around each of them. I had been drinking wine on and off all evening. I was a bit tipsy by 10:30.
It was a quarter-past eleven when Aaron showed up. I was playing a song that I’d learned when I was 5. It didn’t have a title. Claus helped me write it. We had it all written out but I was never able to play it before I was taken. I was teary-eyed and border-line drunk.
“Why aren’t you at the Christmas party?” He pulled up a chair beside me and I kept playing.
“I never go to those parties. I haven’t even been to one. What would make this one different?” I kept my eyes on my hands. I was rocking gently with the rhythm. It was peaceful.
“What is it you’re playing? It’s beautiful.” He was swaying with the beat, also.
“Something I came up with with a friend when I was a little girl. I always had it in my mind but I never got the chance to play it.” My voice was notably different than normal. Maybe it was the wine or maybe I was just that homesick.
“Where did you learn to play?” I think that was when he noticed that there was an almost empty bottle of wine on the floor next to my feet because he then asked, “What is that?”
I ignored the last part and answered the first question. “I was taught by my…mentor. I had him when I was younger.”
He sighed when he realized I was deliberately ignoring his last question. “Thank you for the tie and socks. I thought you didn’t like Christmas.”
“I don’t. I know that you do so I thought I’d be nice and do the right thing…I also feel bad for ruining your other tie.” I remember that when I said this I was a bit shocked. My initial thought was these darn Yankees have softened me. I feel bad about ruining a tie.
“I got you something, too. I left it in your office.” He stood up. I kept playing. It was near the end, though. It was sad for me to see such a beautiful piece come to an end.
“Thank you. There is something else I have for you—my file. We have been partners for a while now. I think you should know my story; where I come from. It’s lying in the top drawer in my desk. Go ahead and take it.”
He bent down and I stopped playing to look at him. His head was parallel to mine. He reached down and picked up the bottle of wine. I looked at it.
He looked me in the eyes and said, “You shouldn’t be drinking this. You are not of age.” I grimaced and rolled my eyes.

The File of Emily Waters:
E. Waters was kidnapped and molested at 9. She was held captive for three years. She was able to run away. The agency in Washington found her and trained her. She was later transferred to Hagerstown, Indiana because E. Waters’ identity was uncovered. Her name was changed as well as her appearance.
NOTE: E. Waters isolates herself. She doesn’t allow
anybody to get close to her. She lacks trust in others.
She also is very clever and is able to pick up on anything.

Another year passed without anything worth mentioning occurred. One day in the summer I thought I would go to the diner in town. I walked in ordered and ate without a disturbance. When I was done eating I stood up to go and fetch the check. On my journey a man with a hot bowl of oatmeal wasn’t paying attention and he ran into me.
The oatmeal ended up all over my shirt. Not only was I a mess, but this man moved his feet when he dropped the bowl. His feet knocked my feet out from under me and I started to fall. The man caught me. He was also trying to untangle his feet from mine which cause him to lose his balance. The two of us tumbled to the floor.
I was angry. This strange man started to laugh. He also apologized at the same time. He couldn’t stop snickering. I could tell he was trying, though. It was clearly visible in his face. Soon after that he stopped apologizing for the oatmeal and started apologizing for laughing so much.
After a minute of that I started to laugh myself. He stood up and offered me a hand which I took. “My name is Bobby Anderson. I really am so sorry about all this.” Bobby had a country accent. It sounded like he lived in Kentucky most his life.
“My name is Emily Waters. I’d say it is nice to meet you, but under the circumstances…” I made my point by gesturing to my shirt. There was more oatmeal visible than there was cloth.
“I guess that’d be right.” He twanged that statement. It was like nails on a chalkboard. I mentally shivered.
After we exchanged names, he invited me out to coffee. I agreed. I had a change of clothes with me. I quickly changed and then went for coffee.
We talked for two hours. The talking led to an exchanging of phone numbers which led to an actual dinner. The dinner led to several other meals. Before Bobby or I knew it, we had been together for nearly seven months.
At the office a lot of people had noticed my behavior change. I wasn’t “irritated” as Aaron put it. He actually asked me what was wrong. He told me I was strange. It was apparently out-of-character for me. I told him the truth, well, some of it.
“I met this guy a few months ago. We’ve been dating.” His expression went from shock to joy in an instant.
“How? When? Where? Who?” He was really excited. I laughed.
“You sound like one of those girls in those horrible sleep-over movies. It’s a funny story, how we met, but there are too many specifics so I can’t tell you anything else.” I remember smiling at him. It was a genuine smile. It was odd because I never smiled. The other agents thought I was a workaholic. I suppose it was true; my job came before everything else. I don’t have to worry about that anymore.
Aaron looked at me closely. He was thinking and making observations about my actions. “You love him, don’t you? I know you have been out with a couple guys and neither one of them affected you like this. What makes this guy different?” I avoided eye contact with him.
I thought about what he said. He waited patiently while I pondered the question. I opened my mouth to speak but before I got the chance Mark asked us to go to his office.
We went to the office and sat down in the two chairs across from Mark’s desk. He told the two of us we were doing a good job. Aaron had to stay to file a few reports but I got to go because I was meeting Bobby’s parents for the first time.
I drove home and changed. I put together a bag of work-clothes. I had to be back at work at eleven so I could file my reports. It was kind of depressing. I might have been a workaholic, but I did enjoy my breaks occasionally.
Bobby came by the apartment I bought a year ago. I followed him out to his parents’ house. I was nervous. I didn’t know what to say. Bobby assured me everything would be okay. He also told me his dad was going to be there in about twenty minutes.
Bobby’s dad walked in the door just as dinner was being set out. I was taking a drink of water when Aaron came into my view. His steps faltered. His smile feigned ever so slightly. I started choking on my water.
“Aaron, this is Bobby’s girlfriend, Emily.” Kathy said this, completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.
I stopped coughing and said, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” I had to say something. This situation was to become a major conflict in my relationship with Bobby.
He was also dumbfounded. “Err…It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m hungry let’s eat.” He went into the small dining room and sat down.
We all talked. The conversation wasn’t that out-of-the-ordinary. We discussed sports, school, and me. We didn’t really go into too much description. Aaron was angry, and I wasn’t sure if anybody else knew it.
Aaron opened his mouth, “So, Emily, what is it exactly that you do?” He looked at me with a smirk forming on his lips.
“I am a secretary for a law-firm in Indy. What is it you do, Mr. Anderson?” I said that with a don’t-screw-with-me look on my face. I emphasized his name.
“I am a stage-man for the Richmond Civic Theatre.” He kept staring at me, wondering what I’d say next.
“Hmm...That’s interesting.” I told him that as I smiled and then I looked at my watch.
“I have to get to work; some files need to be put away.” I stood up and thanked Kathy. Things were going to get interesting.