Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 3 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 3 of 3

 

“This is Henry Marsh.  What can I do for you?”

“Henry Marsh?  This is Congressman Stiller.”

“Stiller!  Wait a minute.”  He looked up.  “Out!” he shouted to all the people in his office.  “Everyone out.  Now!”  He watched as they all hurried out.  “And close the door!”  A moment later, he was alone.  “Sorry,” he said into his phone.  “It gets busy here.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I really just wanted to talk.  Nothing more.  Right now, I’d really like to pour you a drink and sit down with you to try and get to know you better.”

“Huh!” Henry replied.  “Tell you what, I’m opening my desk drawer right now and pulling out a bottle of Scotch.  Hang on a minute while I pour myself a drink.”

“In that case, I’ll do the same,” Mike Stiller told him.

The two men poured their respective drinks, and took a sip before sitting down at their desks to talk.

“What’s your take on this situation?” Stiller asked.

“Other than it being a huge mess?  Other than making me feel like my life has been ripped out of my body, leaving nothing but a huge hole?  I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Yeah.  Agreed,” Stiller replied.  “My daughters mean everything to me.  Now, for all intents and purposes, my youngest one is dead.  Murdered!  That…hurts.  And I don’t mind telling you that.”

“Murdered is exactly the right word,” Henry agreed.  “You’re a congressman though.  What do you think is going to happen?”

“Humph!  Need you ask?  The rest of the government is going to go crazy to get their claws into this thing in every way they can.”

“That sounds like…”

“Like shit!” Mike finished.

“Pretty much,” Henry agreed.  “I was hoping to keep this as quiet and easy for my family as I could.  I’ve suddenly got a stranger living in my house.  A stranger that looks like my son, but who isn’t.”

“And I’ve got the opposite right here.  My daughter, isn’t my daughter.  And we were going out of our way to keep this as quiet as possible too.  I’ve got to think about how this can affect the confidence the people have in me.  My enemies will go to any length to stop some of the things I’m working for in congress, not to mention possibly trying to get me out of office.”

“I hadn’t considered that for you,” Henry told him.  “But you’re right.  It is a problem.  I hope it won’t affect my position here.”

“We both may have to keep the optics of the situation in mind,” Mike told him.

“Yeah.  Thanks.  I’ll be doing that now.  Congressman, do you mind if I call you Mike?”

“Please do.  In this case, we’re just two fathers who are concerned about our families.  Nothing more.”

“That’s the way I see it,” Henry agreed.  “But as a father, you’re a man, and I’m a man, how is my Stephen coping up there.  No matter how I try, I can’t imagine how he’s feeling.  I can’t imagine his situation at all.  I’m just…beside myself.”

“Yeah.  I’m sure you are,” Mike replied.  “Henry, I’d like to say that your son is happy, but you already know that he’s not.  From everything I know, he was someone who loved sports, and he talks about football all the time.  He’s stuck now in a world that he doesn’t even understand.  I’m the only man in the house with three females, one of those females is now your son.  To be honest, I haven’t got a clue how to help him.  We don’t have a football in the house, and even if I buy one, he’s a girl now.  As I see it, he should be doing girl things.  Except, I already know he doesn’t have the least bit of interest in any of that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, realizing that everything Mike had said would be true.  Disappointing, but true.  “And I don’t know how to help your daughter.  Steve was…a big strong kid.  He played sports.  He had a bunch of friends, and they were always doing things.  He’s got his own car so he can go places.  Which reminds me, I need to get his car keys away from him…at least for now.”

“Might be a good idea.  Nancy wouldn’t have a clue as to how to drive.”

“Yeah.  In fact, when we’re done, I’m going to call my wife and have her go get them.  I don’t want her to take a chance and decide to try driving by herself.  It might be better to be on the safe side of that one.”

“Do it!  Nancy was a good girl.  Real good, and real bright, but…well, she’s a kid.  And I know from experience that you never know what one of them might get into their heads to try and do.  Especially when they’re bored.”

“Consider it done!” Henry assured him.

“Thanks.  Look.  Henry.  I don’t know if that’s somehow really my Nancy that you’ve got down there or not.  It just seems a bit too far-fetched for me.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed.  “I feel the same.  I don’t know if you’ve got my Stephen, or if the Stephen I’ve got now really is your daughter…or…if they’re both really dead.”

“That’s the one that worries me the most,” Mike admitted.

“Me too, but at this point I don’t know what to do about it.  To be honest, I’m so desperate to hang onto the hope that Stephen really is alive, somewhere…somehow!  Even if it is in the body of a little girl.  I just want him to be okay.  Somehow.”

“My thoughts exactly.  Listen, Henry.  I don’t keep secrets form my wife…unless they involve my job.  I’m afraid I’ve got to deal with more than a few of those.”

“Me too in my job,” Henry agreed.

“Yeah.  But I’m not planning on telling Wanda about this call.  What you tell your wife is your business.  I really just wanted to touch base with you and at least start to get some kind of idea of who you are.  I mean, my daughter’s life is literally in your hands.”

“I understand.  Fully!” Henry replied.  “And I feel pretty much the same way.  But Mike,”

“Yeah?”

“I look forward to a day, soon I hope, when the two of us can sit down with these drinks, in person.”

“Yeah.  Me too.  Let’s try and make it happen.  Soon.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

“Mrs. Marsh?  This is Wanda Stiller.  Congressman Michael Stiller’s wife.”

“Wanda!  I know who you are.  We…almost talked last night.”

“Yes.  Since your Stephen tried to call you yesterday, I got his phone here and found the number that he called.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?  I’m so glad you called.  I was trying to figure out how I could get in touch with you.”

“Good.  Do you have time to chat right now?  If not, we can try again later.”

“No.  Now would be good.  Great really.  Steve is out moping on the back patio right now.”

“I really just wanted to talk to you,” Wanda told her.  “I thought that maybe we could keep this conversation between just us ladies.”

That sounded either suspicious or ominous to Agatha.  “Sure,” she agreed.  “Fine with me.  Steve may not need to be part of this anyway.”

“Yes.  As much as I really want to talk to him again, this time, I thought that maybe you and I should touch base for a bit.”

“As I said, it’s sounds good to me.  What did you have in mind?”

“You’re my daughter’s new mother,” Wanda said.  “As a mother, how do you feel she’s doing?”

“Something told me you’d want to know that.  I have the same concerns about my Stephen.  But to be honest, I’m not sure how your Nancy is.  Physically, she’s fine.  Perfectly fine.  It’s just that…mentally, I’m not sure how she’s coping.  And to tell the truth, if I were in her position I don’t think I’d be able to cope any better.  In fact, so far, she’s probably surviving this better than I would, so I’ve got to give her a lot of credit for that.  Mrs. Stiller, I think you’ve got a pretty brave little daughter there.  I just hope my Stephen is half as brave.”

“I think he is,” Wanda told her.  “In fact, I have no doubt he’s probably braver than my Nancy.  There’s no doubt he was a pretty tough kid.  His bigger problem I think is that all that toughness doesn’t really translate into the life of a twelve year old girl.”

“No.  It wouldn’t,” Agatha agreed.  “We got a surprise visit from Stephen’s football coach a little while ago,” Agatha told her.  “He came by just to see how he’s doing.  I’m afraid I needed some excuse for how Steve is behaving so I told him Steve has amnesia.  Total amnesia, and that he doesn’t remember anything at all about his entire life.”

“Oh!  That sounds like a great idea.  I’ll have to keep it in mind.  How did it work?”

“As far as I can tell, pretty good.  Except that the coach seems to think I should have some of Steve’s old friends from the team around to maybe help jog his memory, or at least try to cheer him up.  Sorry, but he is feeling rather lost right now.”

“I have no doubt,” Wanda replied.  “So are you?  Are you going to start bringing in some friends?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe later, but not right now.  Look, mentally my Stephen is a young girl.  I’m not sure how well he’s going to fit in with a bunch of rowdy high school football players.”

“Yeah.  That sounds frightening.  I’m not sure I would want to be in that position.”

“Have any problems come up on your end?” Agatha asked.

“Huh!  A few.  Nothing major.”

“Like what?”

“Last night I caught Nancy in the kitchen trying to make some eggs.”

“Stephen did that all the time.  He ate…quite a bit.”

“So I found out.  I had to explain that a sixty pound girl doesn’t need to eat half a dozen eggs at one time.  We had ice-cream together instead.  Oh, and he decided he likes chocolate better than he used to.”

“Hm!  A lot of women I know like chocolate,” Agatha noted.

“Nancy may become another one.  She’s young yet though.  Her tastes will change as she grows.  And speaking of growing…”

“Yes?”

“I had to sit down with him this morning and have that little talk.”

“Little talk?”

“About bras and periods.”

“Oh.  Goodness!  He would be about that age, wouldn’t he.”

“Yes.  Nancy has only had a few periods so far, and it was all fairly new to her as well.  But in my Nancy’s case, she’s had her sister living right across the hall all her life.  She pretty much knew what to expect.  This Nancy, your Stephen…well…”

“He didn’t have a clue,” Agatha finished for her.  “I’d like to laugh, but I can’t.”

“Yeah.  Oh, he knew some of it, but not the details.  I can tell you though that he knows a lot more now than he did before.”

“It won’t kill him,” Agatha told her.

“No.  And he could very well need to know all that fairly soon.”

“You mean she’s due?”

“Maybe.  As I said, Nancy just started having her periods.  She’s only had a few so far, which means they haven’t settled down into a predictable pattern yet.  Which means that it could happen today, tomorrow, or two months from now.  We simply don’t know.”

“Poor Stephen,” Agatha said.

“He’s stuck being a girl for now,” Wanda said.  “He’ll have to learn to deal with it like every woman in the world.”

“True.  Who knows.  Maybe he’ll learn something from it.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Maybe this little talk between us was a good idea,” Agatha told her.

“Yeah.  And maybe we should do it again sometime.”

“Absolutely!”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Doctor Faucet rang the doorbell to the large house of Doctor Judith Rameriz outside of Philadelphia.  He had noted several other cars in the driveway, so he was guessing he wasn’t the first one here.  The door was opened by a woman he recognized from her picture on the internet.  “Doctor Rameriz?” he asked.

“Doctor Faucet,” Judith greeted him happily.  “Come in.  Come in.  Meet the…eccentrics.”

Faucet realized that eccentrics was probably what he should expect.  He was soon introduced to everyone.  They all seemed to be a congenial group and only first names were used.  They all sat around with drinks and talked or argued over their separate opinions on various aspects of what the souls, or ghosts as he thought of them, were capable of doing.  What traits they would most likely have.  Surprisingly, Faucet found the discussion to be the very thing he himself had always found to be the most interesting.  He joined in wholeheartedly, enjoying the give and take of all these learned people.  The only strange thing he found was that they mostly called ghosts, souls.  But then, wasn’t a soul the very definition of a ghost?  He really had no problem with that.

It was later in the evening, while one of them was arguing a particular point with him, when that person asked a strange question.  “But what if we could somehow capture someone’s soul?  What do you think might happen?”

He found himself feeling like he had been put on the spot, with everyone paying more attention than usual.  “Capture a soul?” he asked.  “I can’t even conceive of such a thing.”

The man waved his concern aside.  “But what if we could?  What traits do you think you might find in it?”

Sometimes the science minded people could put the simplest of questions in the most awkward way possible.  “You mean somehow hold the spirit captive just for the purpose of studying it?”

“Something like that,” the man confirmed.

“I don’t know,” Faucet replied.  “We all seem to agree that ghosts somehow carry the memory of their original person, if only to a very small extent.  We all would love to know how it’s possible since there’s no physical brain to hold that information.”

‘Yes, but most ghosts also retain the original shape and face of the person they used to be as well.  Even their clothes.  How do they do it?”

“As always, that’s the twenty-million dollar question,” Faucet replied.  “I simply have no idea, even though I’ve tried to figure out just that.  How do the spirits of the dearly departed, hold so much information…without a physical brain?   We may never really know.  Especially since, as you proposed, it would be impossible to really capture one to study it.”

And then one of the men in the group asked, “But what if it’s already been done?”

Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 2 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 2 of 3

 

At nine o’clock in the morning, Doctor Faucet was at his desk, waiting on his first patient.  He was remembering the phone conversation he had last night where he agreed to attend the meeting with the ghost hunters later tonight.  He had looked up some of the names on the list of group members, but that didn’t take long since they all popped up on the same website, listing them as the developers of some new fancy water treatment device.  How had they gone from water treatment to ghosts?  He couldn’t imagine.

His office door opened and the receptionist poked her head in.  “Doctor Faucet?  I think we’ve been invaded.  The FBI and police and…”  With that someone pulled her out of the way and a woman he had never seen entered.  She was immediately followed by a man.  After them came Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.

“I thought I had your son’s appointment listed for ten o’clock, not nine,” he told the two Marsh parents.

The woman who had come in first held up an ID.  “Special Agent Rosenberg,” she said.  “FBI.  And this is Detective Nolan with the Philadelphia police.  Sorry for the intrusion, but we don’t have time to wait.”

“What’s going on?” Faucet asked.

“According to Mrs. Marsh, you diagnosed her son Stephen as having multiple personality disorder.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replied, now looking at Mrs. Marsh.

“How sure are you of that diagnosis?”

“Very!” the doctor assured her.

“I need to know how you arrived at that conclusion.”

“There’s nothing else it can be,” the doctor explained.  “He has for some reason manifested a new personality on top of his original one, and so far the new personality is completely suppressing his true identity.”

“What if I told you there’s another person out there.  Someone who was kidnapped at the same time as Stephen, and with all other factors the same as well, except that this person seems to now have Stephen’s personality, and the personality that he is projecting is hers.”

Faucet shook his head.  “Impossible!  There’s something else going on there.  Stephen’s original personality is being suppressed.  Nothing more.  And the same has to be true with the other person you’re talking about.  With a bit of digging, I have no doubt that you’ll find the original personality buried in there, but I doubt you’ll find it until you find the traumatic event that triggered the new personality that is most likely trying to protect the original.”

Rosenberg looked a him for a moment then said, “Doctor Faucet, you’re an idiot!”  She turned to Nolan.  “Come on.  I don’t even want to talk with this guy.”  She led the way out.

Faucet looked to Mr. and Mrs. Marsh.  “Is my original patient still out there?”

“I hope not,” Henry Marsh told him.  “And we’re not here anymore either.  Come on Agatha.  We need to find a better doctor for Stephen.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

As she drove back towards New York, Rosenberg pulled out her phone and called her boss.  “Sir!  I just met briefly with Stephen Marsh’s psychiatrist, and after two minutes I walked out.  He’s firmly convinced that Stephen has a multiple personality disorder, even when I tried to explain that we had someone else out there who has matching symptoms and Stephen’s identity.  The Marsh’s were there at the time and have now dropped him as Stephen’s shrink.  They’re going to look for someone else now.”

“Okay,” her boss said.  “Listen Ellen, I got a number of calls from D.C. last night and this morning.  They decided that before they all panic, they want some of their own experts to look those kids over to see what kind of conclusions they can reach.  I can’t say that I blame them, and to be honest, it sounds like a very good idea.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Ellen told him.  “I’d rather this country didn’t go to war over something one psychiatrist came up with.”

“How long before you’re back?”

“Two hours,” Ellen told him.

“See me when you get here.  We’ll figure out what arrangements we have to make.”

“Right.  See you then,” Ellen replied.  She ended the call.  The government wanted to get more people involved, but in this case, it was to either confirm the situation or possibly, hopefully, come up with a better explanation.  At this point, Ellen really hoped there was something better.  Something a lot more reasonable!

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Even though the girl sitting on the bed next to her wasn’t mentally her daughter, Wanda automatically reached out anyway and hugged her.  At least she could still do that much, as if her daughter wasn’t really gone.  No, she was only half gone.  But it was the most important half that was missing.

She had just finished having “the talk” with Nancy.  This was the second time she had been through it with Nancy, but this Nancy was a different Nancy, and it was obvious from the start that this Nancy was far less prepared for it than her real Nancy.  Yes, this Nancy knew some of the basics, but she would have expected her to know a lot more.  The old Nancy certainly had, but then the old Nancy had the advantage of having Emily in the room right across the hall all her life, and the two of them were very close.  Not so close anymore though.  In truth, Wanda couldn’t blame her older daughter at all.  It was what it was.  They were lucky to have this much of Nancy left.

To Wanda’s knowledge, Nancy had only had two legitimate periods so far, and they were still being somewhat erratic in when they occurred.  That would all change with time, most likely soon.  But at least this new Nancy had some idea now as to what to look for and what to do about it when her next period started, which could be anytime now, or another month away.  That was the problem with some girls at the start, there was no real schedule.  Her body would handle it when her body was ready.  Now, this new Nancy needed to be ready, just in case.

She got up from the bed and started for the door, then stopped.  There was something she had been considering ever since that phone call last night.  She stopped and turned back to Nancy.  “Where’s your phone?” she asked.

“Are you going to take it?”

“No.  Just…the next time you think about calling someone, can you let me know.  Please.  At least for now.”

“Yeah.  I can do that,” Nancy replied.

“Good.”  She looked around the room again, but still didn’t see the bright colored cellphone.  “Where did you hide it?”

“In my top drawer.”

“Oh.  Whatever.  I’m just not used to seeing it not on you.  Since you got it, you’ve been practically glued to it ever since.”

Nancy laughed.  “It’s so bright, how can anyone miss it?”

Wanda smiled and walked out.  She would get back to it later.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

In his New York office, Congressman Stiller picked up his desk phone and punched the number to reach his secretary.  “I need you to find me a phone number please,” he told her.

“Who for?” she asked.

“The District Attorney for Philadelphia.  I believe his name is Henry Marsh.”

“No problem,” his secretary told him.  “I’ll let you know when he’s on the line.”

“No.  Just get me his number.  I’ll call him myself.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” she agreed.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Agatha Marsh was walking from one room in the house to another, when she heard the front doorbell ring.  She opened the door and got quite a shock.  “Coach Bradley!  What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on Steve,” Bradley replied.  “I was very sorry to hear that he won’t be at football camp this year.  The team was really depending on him.”

“Yeah.  We’re sorry too.”

“Can I see him?  At least see how he’s doing?”

“Um…coach,” Agatha said, searching for some way to explain things.  “Ever since Steve was abducted, he hasn’t exactly been himself.  That’s why we pulled him out of that camp.  And to be honest he very well may not be in school this year either.”

“Not in school?  And he’ll miss the entire season?”

“It’s starting to look like it,” she told him.  “We’re sorry, believe me.  Steve was really looking forward to it.”

The coach was obviously not happy.  Steve was one of his star players.  Can I still see him?  At least say hi?  Let him know I care.”

“Coach,” Agatha said.  “You can see him.  He’s not contagious, but seeing him won’t do you any good.  More than likely, he’s not going to know you at all.”

“What?”

“Since we got him back, Steve has lost every bit of memory of his entire life!  He doesn’t even know us or his own name, let alone any of his friends.  That’s why we’ve been keeping them all away.  We haven’t allowed any of them to see him.”

The coach was shocked.  “Amnesia?”

“Complete,” Agatha told him, now figuring that the amnesia line might be the best thing possible.  How else could they explain things?

Coach Bradley considered that.  “Can I still see him?  Mrs. Marsh, Steve is one of my favorites.  He may not remember me, but at least I can let him know that I care.  That the entire team cares.”

Agatha considered that, then stood back.  “Come in.  Let’s see if we can find him.”

She led the way through the house, checking the obvious places first, but she didn’t see him.  Going out the back door, she saw him sitting and staring at the backyard.  Normally, Steve would be out there doing something sports related, like throwing the basketball at the net.  But now he was just sitting on the brick wall that lined the patio.  “Stephen,” she called, then hurried ahead of Bradley.  She leaned down and whispered into Stephen’s ear.  “You’ve got a visitor.  Coach Bradley, your football coach.  I told him you’ve got amnesia and don’t remember your entire life.  Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.  “I think so.  It means I can’t remember things.”

“Okay.  Good.  Talk to him.  He cares about you.”

Steve turned around and saw the man who had come out to the patio.  He was an older man, going bald on the top of his head.

“Steve?” Bradley said, approaching the boy now.  “How are you?”

Steve shrugged.  “I’m here.”

The coach noticed a listlessness in Steve that he had never seen before.  Yeah, there was something wrong with him for sure.  “Do you remember me at all?”

Steve shook his head.  “Sorry, but I don’t.”

“I’m Coach Bradley, the high school football coach.  We…you’ve been on my team for the last three years.  This year would have been our fourth together.”

“They tell me I like football.  They say I like it a lot,” Steve replied.  “But I don’t remember anything about it.  In fact, to be honest, I couldn’t care less about it.  It really doesn’t interest me at all.”

That was troubling to the coach.  “What does interest you?”

“Trying to figure my life out!” Steve told him, the frustration in his voice evident.

‘Yeah, I guess that makes a lot of sense.  Steve, I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you.  In fact, the entire team is thinking about you.  We’re all behind you Steve, for whatever you need.  You want something, just say the word.  Okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied.  “Thanks.”  In truth though, he really didn’t care.

“Okay,” Bradley said.  “Just remember.  If you ever need to talk, I’m always available.  Especially for you.  Got that?”

“Yeah.  Sure,” Steve replied.  “Thanks.”

“Okay,” the coach replied.  “Get well soon Steve.”

“Yeah.  I hope so,” Steve told him.

With a nod, Coach Bradley turned and left him.  He was very troubled.  That hadn’t seemed like Steve at all.  Total amnesia.  Yeah, something like that would be the only thing that could account for the way Steve was acting.  He couldn’t imagine not knowing anyone or anything.  He felt even worse for Steve the more he considered it.  A thought struck him as Stephen’s mother escorted him to the front door.  He stopped and turned to her.  “Mrs. Marsh,” he said.  “Maybe it would do him good if some of his friends came to see him.  He might not know them, but maybe they could help stimulate his memory a bit.  If nothing else, maybe they could give him something else to think about.  Distract him from his troubles somewhat.”

The idea struck a chord in Agatha.  “I’ll consider that,” she told him.  “It might be a good idea, but right now, I wouldn’t even know who to suggest that he should see, and…I’m not sure he’s ready for anything like that yet.”

Coach Bradley nodded.  “Of course.  Let me know though if you need anything.”

“I will,” Agatha agreed.  “Thank you for coming.  I’m sure Steve appreciates it.”

She let him out the door and then closed it again.  Would having a friend over help Stephen’s mood?  He was bored.  Very bored, and she understood that.  But in reality, Steve was a twelve year old girl.  Something about having a bunch of high school guys from the football team come over for a party didn’t sound like the best idea at all.  Still, how could she help him?  She didn’t have a clue.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Extracted - Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 1 of 3

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 13 – How Many Eggs Does It Take – Part 1 of 3

 

Special Agent Rosenberg had just gotten back to her hotel room when her cellphone rang.  She noticed that the call was from her boss back at the FBI building in New York.  She answered the call.  “Rosenberg.”

“Ellen,” her boss said.  “Have you had a chance to meet with the family yet?”

“I just came from there sir.”

“And?”

“And it looks like our worst fears are confirmed.  Stephen Marsh seems to have somehow picked up Nancy Stiller’s identity, and there is no sign of Stephen in his body at all.”

“Damn!  When you told me this afternoon what you discovered, I had no choice but to run it up the ladder.  I’ve had the brass from D.C. bugging me every twenty minutes ever since.  They’re not going to want to hear this.”

“Sorry sir, but it is what it is.  The problem is that I’m really not sure exactly what it is.”

“But do you still think that your earlier report was accurate, that we may be looking at a group somewhere with the capability of implanting someone else’s consciousness into other people, and possibly creating an army of killers?”

Rosenberg considered that for only a moment before saying.  “I’m afraid I do sir.  Now, more than ever.  As much as I hate to say it, it looks exactly like someone implanted Stephen Marsh’s identity and memories into Nancy Stiller, and then turned around and implanted Nancy Stiller into Stephen Marsh.  And sir, I’m not an expert, but it very well may have been done that way just to prove to us what they could do and that they’re not trying to fool us.”

“Damn!” her boss swore softly.  “Okay, I’ll pass the bad word onto D.C. right away.  Something tells me my phone is going to be keeping me awake all night.”

“Sorry about that sir.”

“Are you heading back now?”

“No.  I’m at my hotel.  I still want to talk to Stephen’s psychiatrist tomorrow.  Stephen actually had an appointment set up to see him again in the morning.  I’m going to be there, and Stephen’s mother and father both promised they’d be there as well.”

“Okay.  Good.  Keep on it, and let me know everything you find.  I don’t have to tell you Ellen, this looks bad.”

“It could be, sir,” Ellen agreed.

“See you tomorrow,” her boss replied before hanging up.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

It was late, bedtime, when Wanda found Nancy in the kitchen.  “What are you doing?”

“Oh!” Nancy said, startled at being caught.  “I hope you don’t mind.  I couldn’t sleep, and sometimes when I can’t sleep, I go down and make myself something to eat.”

Wanda looked at the eggs she had put on the counter.  “Eggs?”

“I like eggs.  I’ll put them back.  Sorry.”

“No.  I didn’t know you can cook.”

“Not that well, but it’s good enough for me.  So you don’t mind?”

Wanda shook her head.  “Go right ahead.”

Nancy went back to looking around the kitchen.  “I can’t tell you how weird it is to not be able to reach everything in the kitchen.  Even the stove is too high, but I can manage.  I had no problem getting to anything before.”

“Huh!  I’m and adult and I can’t reach everything either,” Wanda told him.  “What are you looking for?”

“The pans.”

Wanda went over to one of the drawers, opened it, and pulled out a small frying pan.  “Here you go.”

Nancy looked at the pan.  “That’s kind of small.”

“Small?  How many eggs are you going to cook?”

“I don’t know.  I usually make five or six.”

“Six eggs at a time?”

“Yeah.  Of course.”

“How much did you weigh?”

“Around one ninety eight.”

Wanda was aghast.  “One ninety….  Nancy, the last time we weighed you, you were only sixty-one pounds, not two hundred.  Here, have a seat,” she told her daughter, motioning to the stools on the other side of the island counter.  She put the frying pan away, then grabbed the eggs and put them back into the refrigerator.  From the freezer she pulled out a tub of chocolate ice-cream.  She dished out two scoops into bowls for each of them, then she sat on the stool next to Nancy.

Nancy took the spoon and tried some of the ice-cream.  “Mm!”

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“Nothing.  This tastes good.”

“Good.  I’m glad.  Did your mother buy that brand of ice-cream?”

“Yeah.  I just don’t remember it tasting this good before.  And I liked chocolate, but it wasn’t exactly my favorite.  Now, I may have to rethink that.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Wanda told her.

“It’s weird,” Nancy said.  “Since I’ve been here, everything tastes…different.”

“Different?”

“Yeah.  Better.  Like it has more flavor or something.”

“Mm,” Wanda said.  “Maybe it’s because your taste buds are younger.  But I’m glad you’re at least enjoying it.”

“I am,” Nancy confirmed.  She ate for a minute in silence, then said, “I’m sorry I cried earlier.  I…couldn’t help it.”

“You’re sorry?  In case you didn’t notice, I was crying too.”

“Yeah but I’m not supposed to cry.  I don’t even remember the last time I cried.  I feel stupid for doing it.”

“Why?”

“Because…I do.”

“Nancy.  You’re not a two-hundred pound guy anymore.  You’re a twelve year old girl.”

“Not mentally!”

“Still, mentally or not, you’re physically a girl.  And girls, and women…heck, females in general, cry!  And sometimes we cry at the drop of a hat.  It’s what we do.  It’s who we are.  Embrace it and enjoy it.”

“How can you enjoy crying?”

“Oh brother,” Wanda muttered.  “It’s all about giving in to your emotions.  Women…females, are filled with emotion.  Something tells me you need to get used to that.  I can see no reason why men seem to think they shouldn’t cry.  It’s stupid, but that’s the way it is.  But women crave emotion, and crying is something we just do.  She poked Nancy with the handle of her spoon.  “And you dear are now female.  Live it…and love it.  Or at least try to.”

Nancy shook her head.  “How?”

“Try!”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

In Philadelphia, Agatha climbed the stairs up to Stephen’s room.  His bedroom door was open, and he was sitting on his bed staring at nothing.  “You okay?” she asked.

Stephen looked at her for a moment before he replied.  “Yeah.  I just….  It was good to talk to my family again.  My…real family.  I’m sorry if that hurts you but…to me, they’re still my real family.  And I miss them.”

“I’m sure you do,” Agatha replied, going in and sitting on the bed with him.  It was difficult to remember that her large muscular son was now mentally a twelve-year old girl.  Seeing him crying like he had earlier had been distressing.  “How are you coping otherwise?”

“Coping?”

“Yes.  How are you managing.  I’m sure everything has got to be so different for you.”

“That’s an understatement,” Stephen replied.

“Any big problems that stand out?”

“More than I can deal with.”

“What things bother you the most?”

“Being bored.”

“Bored?”

“I’m not into football or any other sports, and that’s all I see around here is things that…the old Stephen used to play with.  He’s got a closet full of shoes with spikes on them and a bunch of sneakers, but even the sneakers are full of mud and dirt and there’s hardly any shoes that look nicer.  And don’t get me started on the rest of his clothes.”

Agatha was surprised.  “What’s wrong with his clothes?”

“They’re boring!  Like everything else.”

“They are?”

“Yeah.  He’s got a couple of suits in the closet, and I tried one of them on to see how I looked.  I didn’t know how to tie the tie so I had to take it off and just leave the top of my shirt unbuttoned.  I looked okay, but basically, all his suits are the same.  All his clothes are the same.  It’s all the same.”

“What do you want?”

“I want…color.  Fun.  Interest.  Style.  Change!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not a girl right now.”

“How could I not notice!”

“So you’ve been trying on clothes?”

“What else is there to do?  The only problem is, the only mirror in here is the one over the dresser and I can’t see my whole body.  It’s useless.”

“I take it you’ve got a bigger one where you come from?”

“Yeah.  Full length so I can see my outfits.”

“Stephen dear,” Agatha said, putting her hand on his shoulder.  “You’re still too much girl!”

“I’m all girl!  Or at least I was.”

“I’m sorry,” Agatha said as she put her arm around both shoulders and squeezed him to her.  “I’d fix it if I could.  I just don’t know how…yet.”

“Yeah.  I know.  It’s just…”

“Frustrating?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe!”

“Oh, I believe it,” Agatha replied.  “Don’t forget, we’ve got another session with that psychiatrist tomorrow morning, except I don’t know how much time that FBI agent is going to take up.”

“She’s going to be there?”

“Your Dad and me too,” she told him.

Stephen nodded.

“Can you tell me something?” Agatha asked.

“Why not?”

“Since that phone call, I’ve been kind of curious.  What does your mother do?”

“Mom?”

“Yes.  What’s she like?  What does she like to do?”

“Throw dinner parties.”

“Dinner parties.  I do quite a few of those myself.  Does your mother like to cook?”

Stephen shrugged.  “Sometimes, I guess.  For the parties though, we have a maid…Mattie.  But her sister Claire likes to cook, and she’s like really good at it.  Mom hires her to cook for most of her parties now so that she can spend her time on all the tiny details as she calls it.  She likes to fuss so much over that stuff.”

“I guess I would too if I had someone to do the cooking for me.  Maybe I should check with Teresa and see if she has a sister like your maid.”

Stephen shrugged again.  “Maybe.”  His eyes fell on his dresser.  He noticed something he had been dying to ask about.  “Mom,” he said.  “And I hope you don’t mind me calling you that.  I really don’t know what I’m supposed to call you.”

“Mom is perfect,” Agatha assured him.  “What is it?”

Stephen got up and picked up the keyring from the dresser.  “I’m supposed to be seventeen years old.  I’ve got a car and a driver’s license in my wallet.  Will you teach me to drive?”

Agatha was shocked.  “Oh hell no!” she replied quickly as she got up and grabbed the keys out of his hand.  “You’re not old enough yet!”

“But I’m seventeen!”

“Not mentally, you’re not.”

“Then when can I learn?”

“Not till you’re sixteen…at least!  If then!”

“Sixteen!  But that’s…years away.”

“Like it or not, you’ll just have to wait!”

She walked out of the room shaking her head.  “Driving!”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

At the breakfast table the next morning, Wanda took one look at Nancy and was shocked.  “Nancy!”

“What?”

Wanda whispered, “Your nipples are showing through that shirt.  Why aren’t you wearing a bra?”

Her damn nipples again.  Nancy’s hands went to her chest and she rubbed her growing breasts vigorously.

“Nancy!  Stop that!”

“Why do they have to bother me so much?”

“Because they’re growing.  You know th…”  She stopped.  “Oh.  You don’t know that, do you?”

“That doesn’t mean they have to be such a nuisance,” Nancy complained.

Emily, sitting next to her snorted a laugh.  “Wait till they get bigger.”

“Which is what they’re doing right now,” Wanda told her.  “Now finish eating and go back to your room and put on a bra.  Then brush your hair…a full fifteen minutes this time and not a minute less!  Hear that young lady?  And don’t forget to throw it over your head and brush the underside like I showed you.  Fifteen minutes!”  She sighed loudly.  “And I guess I’ll be up after I clean up the breakfast dishes.  Something tells me that you and I are going to have to sit down and have a little talk today about becoming a woman.”

Emily sniggered a laugh, then got up.  “I’m not having that talk with her,” she called as she ran out laughing.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

 

Extracted - Chapter 12 – Hello, It’s Not Me – Part 2 of 2

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 12 – Hello, It’s Not Me – Part 2 of 2

 

“Why my son?” Agatha finally asked.  “Why did they have to do this to our Stephen?”

“That’s a great question,” Rosenberg admitted.  “We don’t know.  But if I were to take a guess….  Now mind you, I’m not an expert on the medical and psychological aspects of whatever this is that we’re dealing with, but if you think about it, your son may be the perfect target.”

“The perfect target?” Henry asked.  “What do you mean?”

“You sir, are an important figure, just as the family in New York is as well.”

“A U.S. congressman, according to…Stephen out there.”

“Yes,” Rosenberg admitted.  “But your son is also very physically fit, and I’m guessing that he’s pretty smart as well.  Most likely an excellent student.  It has all the characteristics of someone perfect for their needs.”

“And how about that poor young girl in New York?  I’m guessing she’s not big and strong,” Agatha asked.

“No,” Rosenberg admitted.  “The truth is, we simply don’t know anything at all.”

“How did you manage to put all this together?” Henry asked.

“There’s a doctor in New York.  A psychiatrist who’s been working with Nancy.  She discovered the link between the two cases and alerted us.  She even went so far as to propose what we told you tonight.  I can tell you though that she’s pretty much chomping at the bit for a chance to talk with both the doctor you use for Stephen, and she wants to talk with Stephen himself.”

“She’s got to be better than Stephen’s doctor,” Agatha replied.  “He thinks Stephen has some kind of multiple personality disorder.”

“I can’t speak to that,” Rosenberg told her.  “I’m no expert in any of it.”

Agatha nodded.  “I know I asked this before,” she said, “But where do we go from here?  I know I’d like to meet this girl in New York and see for myself if my Stephen is really there or not.”

“I’m sure you do, but this all happened today.  This afternoon.  I don’t know what we need to do yet.  I do know that I need to talk with Stephen’s psychiatrist, if you’ll give him permission to tell me what he knows.”

“No problem there,” Henry answered.  “We’ll call him in the morning.  In fact, I’ll be there myself.  What else do you need?”

Rosenberg looked at Henry, then at his wife, and made a quick decision.  “I probably shouldn’t do this, but since he called, how would you feel about talking to your son up in New York again?”

Agatha and Henry were both visibly interested.  “Yes!  Please!”

“And if she agrees to let you talk to your Stephen, will you let her talk to her Nancy?”

“Of course!” Agatha agreed, anxious now to speak to her son…or whoever it was that was claiming to be her son.

“But!...  Rosenberg continued.  “Since I probably shouldn’t be doing this, I’m going to insist that it be kept very short.  I’m going to give you and Wanda both exactly one minute to talk to your children.  Not one second more!  And I’m going to time it.”

“One minute?” Agatha complained.

“That’s it.  Not a second more.”

“Why?”

“Because as I said, I probably shouldn’t be doing it at all at this point, especially not without consulting a psychologist first.  I don’t know if we should be looking for any psychological fallout from the contact.”

“Fallout?”

“I simply don’t know Mrs. Marsh.  Look, I’m sure that at some point we’re probably going to have to get both kids and both families together somewhere.  But we’re not to that point yet.  All this information is simply too new.  So let’s just think of this phone call as a warmup.  Okay?  A quick warmup.”

Agatha wasn’t happy about it at all.  “I’ll take what I can get,” she agreed.  “And maybe this time, he won’t be so afraid to talk.”

“I think we can cover that problem,” Rosenberg assured her.  She pulled out her phone again and pushed some buttons.  “Wanda?  It’s me again.  I’ve got a proposal for you that you may or may not like.  I’d like to give you and Mrs. Marsh here exactly one minute each to talk with your respective children.  But it’s only going to be one minute, and I’m going to time it.”  She listened for a moment then replied, “Because I probably shouldn’t be doing this at all.  I just thought it might be…nice.  And who knows, maybe we can learn something.”

Rosenberg looked to Agatha.  “She’s looking for Nancy.”  While they waited, she put her cellphone on speaker so everyone could hear.  Finally, a young girl’s voice came over the phone.  “Mom?  Are you there?”  Rosenberg glanced at her watch.

“Stephen?” Agatha asked quickly.

“Mom?” the little girls voice came again.  “It’s me, Steve.  Really, it’s me.  I know I don’t sound like myself.  Believe me, I don’t look like myself either, but it’s really me.”

“Steve, son!” Henry said, standing up to get closer to the phone.  “How are you?”

“Dad,” the little girl’s voice said.  “You’re there too?”

“We’re home Steve.  We’re both here.”

“It’s so good to hear from you.  I’ve been going crazy wanting to see you.”

“Us too,” Henry told him.  “Steve, we’ve got the FBI and the police here with us.  We’re all trying to figure out what to do about this problem.”

“Good.  I’m going crazy here!”

“Steve?” Agatha said.  “Was that really you who called me earlier today?”

“Yeah Mom.  Sorry, but I just had to take a chance and try to tell you where I was.”

“Are they not letting you call or anything?”

“I don’t know.  They never said, so I wasn’t sure.  They’ve actually been really good to me.  I was just…afraid.  And what if you wouldn’t believe it’s me.  What if…I’m really there with you, and I just…think this is me here.”

“Steve,” Henry said.  “It’s like we’ve got your body here, but you’re not in it.  Someone else is.”

“Who?”

“A little girl named Nancy,” Agatha told him.

“Nancy.  The other…I guess me.  The person who should be in this body instead of me.”

“Time!” Rosenberg suddenly called.  “Wrap it up.”

“Steve,” Agatha said quickly.  “This FBI woman is making us stop now.  But we’ll try to get in touch again.  Soon!”

“I love you Mom,” Steve said.  “Love you Dad.”

“We love you too!” Agatha told him.

“Rosenberg took the phone and said into it.  “Wanda, are you still there?”

“Yes,” the voice came back.  “Can I please talk to Nancy now?”

Rosenberg looked to Agatha.  “She’s just outside watching TV,” Agatha told her.

Rosenberg carried the phone out of the home office and found the large boy sitting in front of the TV.  Agatha grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

“What’s going on?” Nancy, in Steve’s body asked.

“You’ve got sixty seconds to say hello to your real mother,” Rosenberg told Nancy.

Nancy grabbed for the phone as fast as she could.  “Mom?  Momma?  Is that you?  Are you there?  Momma?”

“Nancy?” her mother’s voice came over the phone.  “Oh Nancy.  Is it really you?”

“Yeah Momma.  Believe it or not, it’s me.  Mom, I’m stuck in someone else’s body.  A boy.  I know it sounds crazy but it’s true.  And Mom, this boy that I’m in is…huge!”

“Nancy!” Mike Stiller said.  “I’m so glad to hear from you.”

“Dad!” Nancy replied as tears started to roll from her eyes.

“Nance!” Emily exclaimed next.  “Is it really you?”

“Em!  Oh God I miss you.  I miss you all.”  She was crying openly now.  “Momma,” Nancy continued.  “I don’t know what to do here.  I hate being a boy, and believe it or not, I hate being big.  I just want to be me again.”

“Nancy!” her father said.  “Please be honest with me.  Are they treating you okay?”

“I’m fine Dad.  Really, I am.  It’s just…they don’t know what to do with me and I don’t know what to do with me either.  I’m not a boy!”

“We know honey,” Agatha told her.  “We’re hoping to be able to see you soon.”

“I hope so!”

“Time!  Wrap it up,” Rosenberg called.

“Nancy, they’re making us go now.  We love you.  We miss you so much!”

“Me too!” Nancy replied.  “Love you all!”

Rosenberg took the phone.  “Wanda?”

“Yes.  I’m here, but Steve…Nancy, is a mess.”

“I understand.  “I’ve got to go now, but I promise, I’ll be in touch soon.”

“I’m sure,” Wanda replied.  “Ellen, thanks for this.  It was great to talk to Nancy…if that really was Nancy.”

“So far, we think it might be.”

“But what do we do about it?”

“Wanda, we’ll be in touch,” Rosenberg replied, avoiding the question.  “Bye.”

Rosenberg put her phone back in her purse.  Since she was there with Stephen, or at least his body, she took a moment to study him.  He was crying.  A strange sight to see from someone so…muscular.  And that’s the best way she could describe him.  Muscular.  And big.  He looked like a football player.  Not to mention, he was fairly well gifted in the handsome department as well.  She had no doubt that he was a real heartthrob to the girls at school.  “Are you okay?” she finally asked him.

“Yeah.  Fine,” Steve replied, managing to pull himself a little more under control.  “So is it okay if I call them again sometime?”

“Maybe…not yet.  We just found out about your…problems, and we just found out that the two cases are connected.  This entire thing is very complicated, more so than I’m sure you realize.  Let us do our jobs.  I have no doubt that in the near future you’ll get a chance to actually see your…um…other family soon.  At least, I would think that would be the case.  Right now, I’m not sure of anything.”

“You think I am?” Stephen replied.  “I’m a girl stuck in this hulking ogre’s body.  I hate it!”

“I have no doubt,” Rosenberg agreed.  “I’m sure I’d hate it too.”

Extracted - Chapter 12 – Hello, It’s Not Me – Part 1 of 2

 

Extracted

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 12 – Hello, It’s Not Me – Part 1 of 2

 

Agatha’s cellphone rang while she was in the middle of making dinner for the family.  She answered it as quickly as she could.  She noticed Detective Nolan’s name on the caller ID.  “Agatha Marsh,” she answered.

“Mrs. Marsh,” Nolan said into his phone while he was driving back towards Philadelphia.  “This is Detective Nolan.”

“What can I do for you detective?  Has there been any progress in Stephen’s case?”

“You can say that,” Nolan admitted.  “Unfortunately, the entire case has just gone from bad, to worse, and beyond.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Tell me Mrs. Marsh, and believe me, this is an imperative question.  Is your son Stephen showing any signs of…let’s just say mental difficulties?”

“Mental difficulties?  Detective, let’s just say that that’s an understatement.  Why?”

“Damn!” the detective swore.  “I wish I had known.”

“Why?  What bearing can it have on who took him, which to my knowledge was most likely that eco activist group?”

“Mrs. Marsh, your son wasn’t the only one taken, we now know of another one that is directly related to your son’s abduction, and it looks like there could be more.”

“More!  Okay.  Who?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say.  Look, I’m on my way back from New York right now.  We’re still on the case, but the FBI has now taken the lead on it, and trust me, that’s a good thing.  This thing has gone in a direction that could quite frankly be frightening.”

“You mean the abduction of my son and his…difficulties as you called them, isn’t frightening?”

“Yes, it is, but this could be far worse.  Is there any chance that you’ll be home this evening and that we can talk to Stephen?”

“When you put it that way, we’ll be here,” Agatha confirmed.  “We haven’t had dinner yet.  What time?”

“Would somewhere around eight be okay?”

“Fine,” Agatha confirmed.  “See you then.”

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

Doctor Christopher Faucet picked up a piece of mail that had been delivered to his desk at the behavioral clinic.  He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.  “Hm!” he grunted softly.  It wasn’t the kind of thing he ever expected to get here at the clinic.  It was an invitation to attend a group meeting to discuss the characteristics of incorporeal entities.  Why didn’t they just say ghosts?  But then he noted the member list of what appeared to be an ongoing group.  Three PhDs, a fourth one with pending PhD after his name, and a final fifth name that just said applied physics after it.  This was a group with some serious brainpower.

Why would people like this be interested in ghosts?  And why would they want a psychiatrist to discuss it with them?  But then ghost hunting was his hobby, and maybe one of them had tripped over the paper he had written on the subject.  Anyone even finding that thing though was a longshot!  Still, it was interesting to note that there were others, actual scientists, who were interested in the subject too.  It wasn’t just him.

He looked at the phone number, which told him nothing.  He was a ghost hunter who tried to actually study the ghosts he found and categorize their behaviors.  This sounded like something he might really be interested in.  He decided to phone the number after dinner tonight and hopefully get more information.

With a humorous grunt, he put the invitation aside and moved onto the next piece of mail, a notification for a psychological conference to be held in Denver.  He wasn’t sure if he would attend that one or not.  It would probably depend on how busy he was.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

It was a little before eight when the Marsh’s doorbell rang.  Agatha herself answered it.  She found two people on her doorstep.  “Detective Nolan,” she said.  “Nice to see you again.”  She looked to the woman with him, but the detective didn’t seem interested in introducing her.  She guessed the woman was with the FBI.  “Come in, please,” she offered.  “My husband is in his office and Stephen is in the den.  Who do you want first?”

“You and your husband, alone if possible,” Agent Rosenberg told her.

“It sounds like you need the door closed.  We’ll go to Henry’s office.”

She led the way through the house to an open door.  “Henry,” Agatha said as she went in.  “Our…guests are here.  We might need to talk here for a bit with the door closed.”

That caught Henry by surprise.  He sat at his desk and watched as his wife, Detective Nolan, and a woman he hadn’t met yet came into the room.  Agatha closed the office door.  Henry waved toward the two chairs in the room.  “Have a seat,” he told them.

Rosenberg sat down but Nolan continued to stand.  He looked at Agatha and offered the chair to her.  In moments the two women were seated.

“What can we do for you?” Henry asked.

“Mr. Marsh,” Rosenberg said.  “I’m Special Agent Rosenberg with the FBI.  As of this afternoon, the FBI has taken the lead on your son’s case, although the Philadelphia police force will be continuing to work it as well.  This may need all the resources we can get.”

“All the resources?  You’re the FBI.  You’ve got the entire government behind you.”

“True, but we now find ourselves in a unique situation.”

“Okay.  So what’s going on?”

“What if we were to tell you that your son wasn’t the only child abducted by whoever took him.”

“Someone else was taken?  Who?  Nothing about another abduction came across my desk.”

“That’s because the abduction happened in New York.  Which is why we never made the connection until a third party noticed it and passed the word.”

“A third party?”

“Yes.  I’ll get into that in a few minutes please.”

Henry sat waiting.

“Let me ask first what kind of mental difficulties your son Stephen is exhibiting?  And trust me, I’m guessing that if he is exhibiting any difficulties, I’m expecting them to be…beyond strange.”

“Beyond strange?” Agatha replied.  “You could certainly say that.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Rosenberg replied.  “Can you describe his problem?”

“That’s easy,” Agatha said.  “That…person out there watching TV, isn’t my son.  Oh, he may have my son’s body, but whoever is inside that body is not Stephen.”

“It’s what the doctor was afraid might have happened,” Nolan noted to Rosenberg.

“Yes.  Unfortunately,” Rosenberg agreed.  She looked to Henry, then Agatha.  “Let me guess,” Rosenberg said.  “Your son Stephen, thinks he’s actually a twelve year old girl named Nancy.”

Both Agatha and Henry were visibly shaken.  “How did you know?” Henry asked.

“Because our other victim is a twelve year old girl named Nancy, who thinks she’s a seventeen year old boy named Stephen Marsh.”

Henry wasn’t sure what to say to that, but then he looked to his wife.  “You want to tell them?”

“Tell us what?” Rosenberg asked.

“Earlier today,” Agatha said.  “I got a phone call.  Whoever it was only whispered, and it was a very short conversation, but that person said he was Stephen, and he was in New York somewhere.”

“Are you sure it was a boy who called?” Rosenberg asked.

“No.  It just sounded like a kid.  But he was whispering, and then he suddenly ended the call.  I don’t know why.  I got the impression that he was scared.”

Rosenberg immediately pulled out her cellphone and made a call.  “Wanda, it’s Ellen.  Did Nancy make a call this afternoon to Stephen’s real mother in Philadelphia?”  She listened a moment then said, “Yes.  Please check.  I’ll hold.”  She waited a while then she finally got her answer.  “No.  I was just wondering.  You didn’t by any chance get a phone call claiming they were Nancy, did you?”  She listened again.  “No.  I don’t know if you should expect one or not.  Thanks.  I’m with the other parents now.  Bye.”  She ended the call.  “Nancy up there, or rather Stephen in Nancy’s body, admitted that he tried to call you.  But he was afraid to make the call.  I don’t know why.  In the middle of it, he heard his sister coming and quickly ended it and hid the phone.”

“So that’s why it was so short, and that’s why he was whispering,” Agatha said.  She looked at her husband.  “Henry.  It was Stephen.  Our Stephen.  He called!”

“It sounds like it,” Henry agreed.  “But how can we know for sure that whoever it was, was actually our Stephen?”  He looked to the FBI agent to answer that one.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Rosenberg told him.  “All I can tell you is that there’s a young girl in New York who thinks she’s your son Stephen, and she can tell you everything in the world about him.  And now we’ve discovered that here in Philadelphia, your son Stephen thinks he’s a young girl named Nancy, and I’m guessing he can tell us everything in the world about her.”

“Believe it or not,” Henry said.  “That’s true.”

“So what do we do about it?” Agatha asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Rosenberg  admitted.

“You’re right,” Henry said.  “This is beyond strange.”

“Yes,” Rosenberg told him, then added.  “But that’s not the worst of it.”

“Not the worst?  How can it get any worse?”

“Mr. Marsh,” Rosenberg said.  “From what we’ve tried to piece together.  It very much sounds like someone did this to your son and the girl up in New York.  It was done deliberately!  Somehow, someone has figured out how to extract…”  She looked to Nolan and said, “How did she put it?  Stephen’s entire memories, personality, and identity…”

“I think that was it,” Nolan agreed.

“They figured out how to get all that out of your son, and somehow inject it into someone else, and at the same time, wipe out any existence of the original person in that body.  And it was all done in such a way that the mental takeover if you will, happened slowly, right in front of you, which means they’ve done this before and knew what to expect.  They were that confident of their process.  Now what do you think might happen if these people took the memories and personality from someone like, say a serial killer or something, and injected that into another person, and another person, possibly a hundred or more people, giving them all that same exact personality and memories?”

“My God!” Agatha breathed.  “Is that possible?”

“Is it possible that your son has all the mental characteristics of a twelve year old girl?  We don’t know, but it’s possible that whoever did this is taunting us with what they’ve done.  In a few months’ time, after we’ve had a chance to fully study what they did, we may get a ransom demand of an entirely different nature than the one you received, but that ransom will most likely not go to you, it will go to the government instead.”

“Geez!” Henry exclaimed.  “The fallout could be….”

“A catastrophe!” Rosenberg finished.