New commission - "The Change" - Part 6

how does it look – two teenage girls leaving the clinic, heading up the high street and then through the park? Is it suspicious? Is it normal? Will someone try to stop them? Will someone sound the alarm?

Such thoughts go through Katie’s mind as she walks with Jessie.

It’s a fine October day. Blue skies and warm sunshine. A couple of more weeks and her mother will be dressing her in winter coats and mittens.

“Swings?” Jessie inquires.

“No.”

“Ice-cream?”

“No.”

“But I’m hungry.”

Katie says, “No, you’re not. You’re not hungry at all. You’re fine.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah!”

Katie is persuasive, in spite of her tartan pinafore dress, pigtails, and frilly white ankle socks. She carries Molly, her American Girl doll with the matching outfit.

It would appear to passers-by that Nicole is escorting Katie somewhere, because Katie must be ‘special’. Yes, Jessie in her secondary school uniform must be in charge.

Yet, if anyone gets close enough to eavesdrop on the girls, they will notice that it is the one dressed like a little girl who is in charge. Taking the other’s hand before they cross the road. Making promises of cakes – Later, later on – once they get home to see Dad. Sometimes telling the schoolgirl how things are, issuing commands, and the schoolgirl accepts it, as if she is hypnotized or incredibly gullible.

“When Nicole was on my lap,” Jessie remarks airily, “I got a bit funny in my head.”

“I noticed.”

“But I didn’t get older in the special chair.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Katie reaches for Jessie’s hand before they prepare to cross the street. “Teen agents like us, we’re stuck. We can’t get physically older or younger.”

It’s a strain to be in charge like this. Katie hasn’t been in charge of anything since last Christmas. She hasn’t called a single shot. She’s tried to stay sane, tried to keep her old thoughts intact, while pretending to be mentally reduced in front of her parents and others.

Even that seems barely enough to satisfy her mother, who coddles her teenage daughter, who would put her in nappies and spoon-feed her if she could. Katie protests such treatment of course, but only in the way a little girl would. Insisting that she’s a big girl.

The only person, before last night’s reveal to Jessie, Katie could be herself with was Luke.

That’s over now. Dressed like a toddler, according to Rachel. Ice-cream dripping down his chin.

All smiles. All giggles.

Katie moans – she can’t help it; she can either make that noise or fall to the ground and start screaming. Because how come she’s even more alone now than she was before?

“All right?” Jessie asks.

No. Not a bit. Not even close.

“Sure,” Katie says. She keeps hold of Jessie’s hand, gives it a light swing. She looks both ways and then says, “Let’s go.”

They cross the road, Jessie taking the final two steps with a skip. “So, what about birthdays?”

“Hmm?” One more street and then they’re home. To see Jessie’s father. And in truth, to see what side he’s on. Katie has the black box they used on Sucette; she’ll use it on others if she must.

“It’s my birthday soon,” Jessie says. “Will I get any presents?”

Katie rolls her eyes. “Of course. You just won’t get any older.”

Jessie seems to ponder the idea, as much as she can in her Nicole-cuddled mind.

“We live forever?” Her eyes widen. “Forever and ever, Amen?”

They stop in front of the house. Is Jessie’s father even home at this time? They should have called, but then again, phones are a risk. The Parkdale Parenting Association tracks, it bugs. If Katie didn’t need to hear from Rachel, she would have put her phone in the bin.

“Probably not forever,” Katie says. “But a long time.” How does she explain this to Jessie; does she create a fairytale ending for the girl or wait until later tonight and give it to her straight?

How did Luke put it?

We’re like vampires. We’ll be our pretty teenage selves for a long time, and then…

What? Katie had asked, clutching her latest doll to her chest like an over-grown child hearing the scariest of bedtime stories. “We crumble into dust?”

“Nah,” Luke had replied. “More like, multiple organ failure. Late-stage cancers. We just really, really die.” He had started to brush Katie’s hair. “Hey, she could be wrong.” He’d sniffed. “My intel source, she’s kind of an air-head.” Maybe we just go to the beach and live forever.”

Katie hadn’t cried. Because Luke really was the best at brushing hair. And because maybe the future would be on a beach, never getting wrinkles. But right now, standing outside Jessie’s front door, Katie understands that none of them are living forever. Not forever and ever, Amen.

Jessie strides up the path and fetches a key from her pocket.

Rachel puts a hand on her arm. “Let me do the talking, okay? We need your dad to know what’s going on, and you’re still pretty loopy.”

Jessie giggles. “I’m pretty loopy,” she agrees, dropping the housekeys and giggling some more, and Katie could kick herself for putting that suggestion in the girl’s head.

“You’re not loopy,” she corrects. “You’re…” she sighs. “Just let me do the talking.” Katie picks up the key, but finds the door is unlocked. “Your dad must be home.”

“Dad’s home!” Jessie says, running down the hallway and into the kitchen. “Huh.”

Katie follows her and they will sit down with Jessie’s father, they will work out a plan to help as many of the cub agents as possible, with or without Rachel’s help. And if Jessie’s dad doesn’t want to play on their team. Well, the black box in Jessie’s blazer will take care of that. But let’s talk, first. Let’s have a cup of tea. Katie hasn’t had a cup of tea in forever.

“There you are.” A familiar voice. Not male.

Katie enters the kitchen and almost walks into Jessie. Because Jessie seems frozen to the spot.

It’s not Jessie’s dad who’s sitting at the table.

“I thought you’d be home earlier,” says Miss Brown, steepling her fingers thoughtfully. She’s wearing her nursery school sweatshirt and has a laptop open on the table. As if she just popped in to say hello during a school day. As if she does this all the time.

Does she? Good question; Katie wishes she could ask it.

Miss Brown peers at the laptop screen. “Your appointment with Dr. Sucette was a while ago. What kept you?”

Jessie seems as stiff as a scarecrow. “I saw the doctor,” she offers. “I walked home with Katie.”

Miss Brown takes in the sight of Katie beside her. “Oh,” Miss Brown says, “I see. You were looking after Katie.” She beams at both girls. “How sweet!”

Jessie looks to Katie.

Let me do the talking.

That won’t work because as far as the manager of Rainbow Nursery School is concerned - as far as everyone in the PPA is concerned - Katie has the mind of a little girl.

Inwardly, Katie wants to ask, What are you doing here? Outwardly, she beams at Miss Brown. “I got my Molly dolly!”

Miss Brown gives her an indulgent nod. “Yes, you do, and you’ve got a pretty dress just like her. What a lucky little girl you are.” She beckons them to the kitchen table. “Come on, sit down, I’ll make you some squash.”

Jessie moves towards the table – of course she does, Nicole has left her so suggestible that she would probably jump off a cliff if told to – and Katie reaches for her.

“Where’s Jessie’s daddy?” asks Katie, tugging on the arm of Jessie’s school blazer.

Miss Brown looks past them to the hallway, as if she expects to see the man behind them. “Jessie’s daddy had to go to the shops. I think he’s planning something special for dinner.”

Jessie’s mouth drops open. “Is Daddy making a cake?”

Katie swallows. Jessie sounds all wrong. She wonders how quickly she grab the gadget from Jessie’s blazer pocket and point it at Miss Brown.

Miss Brown pushes her laptop to the side and places her palms flat on the table. “Daddy makes cakes for good girls, Jessie.” She raises her eyebrows. “Are you a good girl?”

Jessie frowns. It’s a question, not one of Nicole’s cuddle-shaped orders, and so there’s room to think. Katie wills Jessie to say something mature, something that helps them find out what’s really going on with the man of the house.

Instead, she darts an anxious look at Katie. What now?

Miss Brown smiles. “Of course you are. You’re Daddy’s good little girl, just the sweetest, most innocent little thing.”

Katie stares at Jessie as the schoolgirl’s expression changes. Jessie’s face relaxes and her eyes looks some of their urgency.

“Jessie’s not little,” says Katie, “She’s big!” She points at the badge on Jessie’s blazer as if it would serve as a get-out-of-jail-free card. “Jessie’s in big school!”

Jessie nods, gives Katie a look that is both desperate and grateful.

Miss Brown shakes her head. “Jessie doesn’t like her stuffy school uniform.” She looks at Jessie and says, her voice as bright and sugary as if she were talking to a three-year-old, “You don’t wanna be stuffy. You wanna be all pretty and sweet like Katie! You wanna wear frilly dresses and play with dolls, ‘cause you’re really just a silly little toddler!”

Katie watches in horror as Jessie looks down at herself with a muddled expression. “I’m…Imma…”

“Silly…little…toddler,” says Miss Brown. She beams at the girl. “Daddy’s gonna bake you a cay-cake!” She laughs. “And Daddy’s gonna dress you in a lovely, thick nappy, so you don’t make tinkles all over the floor!”

Jessie shakes her head fervently, but it seems less to disagree and more a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. She looks wide-eyed, a deer in the headlights, as Miss Anderson smiles and says, “Silly little tinkling baby, all those big girl thoughts going bye-byes.”

Jessie wobbles on her feet. Katie grabs her friend’s arm, steadies her.

Jessie smiles. An open-mouthed, almost senseless kind of smile. Katie can imagine what’s going on in Jessie’s mind; the teen may as well have been swatted.

“Imma…Imma…” Jessie babbles, either determined to make sense or about to accept her infantile fate.

Miss Anderson stays seated. “Silly, tinkling baby!” she says, almost singing the words, while Katie stands there helpless, afraid to give herself away with any words of protest.

“What a good baby,” says Miss Anderson to Jessie, as Katie hears and then sees the urine splashing down Jessie’s legs, puddling at her feet. Miss Anderson nods with approval. “Don’t worry, I’ll let your daddy know this is what you wanted. He was on the fence about this, but once he sees you…” Miss Anderson nods again. “Daddy’s gonna put you in a big, thick nappy, and then he’ll dress you in a lovely, frilly dress, just like Katie!” The senior agent gestures towards Katie and says, “See how happy Katie is?” She makes a clucking sound. “You’ll be just as happy as Katie, just as sweet and innocent. My two happy babies!”

Katie stares as Jessie turns to look at her, as if Jessie had forgotten she was standing there.

Jessie gives her a sleepy-eyed blink of recognition, and then frowns. She points at her and says, “Kay-dee…noh…Kay-dee puh…puh…”

Katie’s pretending. If Katie does nothing, Jessie will innocently reveal her closely guarded secret. The mental disguise she’s been wearing for ten months.

Katie does her own pointing. She giggles and says, “You’re a baby! You can’t talk, you just wet yourself!”

Katie blinks, even more unsteady on her feet, and then the words take effect, and she plants a thumb in her mouth.

Katie is ashamed to feel a sense of relief that Jessie is so far gone that she won’t expose the truth about her.

And then she has to use both hands, dropping her doll in the process, to stop Jessie from falling to the floor.

“Let her sit down,” Miss Brown says calmly, her tone changed from patronizing to neutral. “She’ll be fine on the floor.”

Katie lowers Jessie down, flinching as the girl ends up sitting in a puddle of her own urine but seemingly unconcerned.

Should she grab the black box? Is she ready to do what Rachel did just a few hours ago, and destroy another of Parkdale’s leaders? Or does she play dumb, does she play for some precious thinking time?

“Your mother called,” says Miss Brown. “She was in such a state. It wasn’t kind, running away like that.”

Katie pouts, crouching down to retrieve her doll. “I wanted to play with Jessie,” she says in the childish lilt she’s been using since last Luke saved her.

Miss Brown smiled. “Plenty of time for playing, sweetie.”

Katie blinks in surprise as the woman reaches down and reveals something that can only make her think of Luke.

The velvet red hairband, something so that looks so innocent but is designed to eliminate any chance for coherent, mature thought. To give the wearer intellectual space for nothing but rainbows and unicorns.

“Mummy thinks you look so cute in your Christmas dress,” Miss Brown says. She pushes the hairband across the table. It’s almost time for all that, isn’t it sweetie. Almost time to tell Santa what a good little girl you are, so he can bring you pretty presents!”

Katie shakes her head. “Don’t…don’t wannit.” She points at her hair. Got piggytails.”

Miss Brown gives her a frank look. “Oh, I think you do want it. I think you want to be good as gold for me.” She smiles thinly. “You’ve been spending all your time playing with Luke, and now he’s much more fun than he used to.”

Katie scrambles for a reply. “I don’t…”

“You know,” says Miss Brown, “Luke’s still very charming, even with the mind of a little boy. Really rather sweet. According to Valerie, at least.” She smirks. “Seems that he had all kinds of interesting things to tell her, once he got a chance to play with those special boobies of hers.”

Kate drops the act, and she drops her doll into Jessie’s lap. The infantilized teenager babbles her delight.

“You knew already,” says Katie softly. “You knew how to trick Jessie; you knew from the moment we walked in.”

Miss Brown glances at her laptop screen and then spins the computer around. “Isn’t it better,” she says, “to have everything out in the open.”

There’s a silent video playing. Katie sees herself, standing by the treatment chair in Dr Sucette’s office. She watches Jessie struggle with a little girl, she watches herself adjust the controls.

Miss Brown says, “We’ve got some staffing issues, sure. I didn’t get the video feed until you naughty girls had done all that damage. But we still have great cameras.”

Katie watches the feed until Miss Brown snaps the laptop closed. “Such naughty girls. But we can make it all right again. Jessie’s going to be a sweet toddler. You can wear your special hairband and answer my questions like a good girl.”

Katie doesn’t touch the hairband. “Is Sucette going to recover?” Scared as she is, she manages to deliver a smirk of her own. “Seemed like she was pretty far gone.”

The look Miss Brown gives her is calculating. “Don’t you want to be a good girl? I’m worried about Rachel and Nicole. Aren’t you worried about your friends? Don’t you want them to be safe and sound?” She fusses at her nursery school sweatshirt as if this is the perfect time to smooth out some wrinkles.

Katie is ready to laugh in the woman’s face. Does Miss Brown honestly think that Katie is going to fall for the hypnotic swirl on the sweatshirt?

She is ready to say as much when a pinging sound interrupts them. She looks down at Jessie’s blazer, Jessie herself doesn’t even register the sound, stroking the doll’s hair with a bland expression.

“Speak of the devil,” says Miss Brown, her tone cold and measured. She points down at Jessie. “You should get that.”

Katie does her best to maintain her sarcastic smile. “It’s Jessie’s phone. I don’t know the code, and thanks to you, neither does she.”

Miss Brown laughs. “Don’t need a number, honey. Just a finger.”

She gestures with her own finger, tracing the circular logo for her nursery school, the logo that has left so many targets in a sleepy-eyed, docile state.

Katie frowns, and then blinks stupidly. “I don’t…I don’t wanna…”

“Yes, you do,” Miss Brown replies, her voice warming. “You want to be a good girl and get that phone for me. Let’s see what your silly friend is saying. I can’t want to see Rachel again; we’re going to have such fun.”

Katie blinks again, and then crouches down to open Jessie’s blazer.

She reaches inside the pocket and pulls out the little black box.

She points the device at Miss Brown. She doesn’t blink. She has known all along not to look directly into the logo pattern.

“I’m not going to fall for the damn swirls. I’m trained. I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

If Miss Brown knows what the device can do, she doesn’t show it.

“You always were a bright spark, just like Luke. And I’m sure he’d have loved to ride in and save the day for you like last Christmas, but he’s focused on important matters now.” She smiles. “How to put on shoes all by himself, remembering his left and rights, things like that. But we can’t really blame Luke for falling under Valerie’s spell, he was just another teenage boy at heart.” Her expression changes abruptly, and she is fierce. “Now, are you going to behave or do you need me to leave you drooling and babbling like your little friend on the floor?” Miss Brown shows her teeth. “I can send you away. I can make sure you end up on the other side of the world.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Katie whispers. She rests her finger on the button. Ready to fire. Prepared to take out one more monster. Because there’s no arguing with the Parkdale Parenting Association. There’s no reasoning. All they can do is take it out.

“Such a clever girl,” says Miss Brown. “But everyone’s got a weak spot. I mean, I thought Luke wouldn’t fall for Valerie’s flirty tricks, but…” She sighs, reaching underneath her sweatshirt and retrieving a necklace. “We all have our weak spots.”

Sparkles.

Katie stares at the necklace and has time to understand that she’s made a terrible mistake. She also understands that no one can help her. Not Luke, who got mesmerized by Valerie and now has ice-cream running down his chin. Not Jessie, who’s busy sucking on her thumb with wet knickers, who’s waiting for Daddy and cay-cake.

There’s no help. There are only the sparkles.

And so, Katie stares at the necklace as Miss Brown gets up and walks around the table.

Katie stares at the necklace as Miss Brown takes the black box from her hand.

Katie stares at the necklace as Miss Brown says, “All your good work over the years, you think it was you? Your genius? It was the tech. You were just the pretty face wearing it.” She twirls the pendant in front of Katie’s eyes, and the girl’s expression is transfixed until Miss Brown says sweetly, “Such a good little girl. All sweet and good, aren’t you.”

Katie nods her head gently, the sweetest of smiles playing on her lips.

“A taste of your own medicine, hmm?”

Katie nods, uncomprehending. An echo of Katie’s previous targets. She used the pendant so many times, she’s part of that music, that story now. Hell, she even used it on Rachel once. But all Katie knows now is that there are sparkles and they leave her feeling completely at peace, her mind empty and waiting for whatever patronizing instruction the wearer has to give her.

“You wanna wear your pretty hairband so Mummy knows what a pretty little angel you are?”

Katie nods again, not taking her eyes off the sparkling pendant. When Miss Brown puts the headband in her hands, Katie takes it gratefully, planting it clumsily but solidly on top of her head.

“There,” says Miss Brown. “See how easy it is to be a good little girl?”

Katie giggles. “Uh-huh!”

“Don’t you look cute, in your pretty tartan dress. Just like your doll! So sweet of you to let Jessie play with it. What a sweet, obedient little girl you are.”

Katie beams. “I’m…Imma…” She fumbles with her words, her tongue lazy and uncoordinated. “Imma bee-dient.”

“Yes, you are,” says Miss Brown, letting the necklace fall back against her chest. “Now, be a good, obedient little girl and open up your phone so I can read your little messages.”

Katie doesn’t need telling twice. She crouches down, reaches back into Jessie’s blazer pocket, and she feels a sense of pride, of superiority over the silly girl babbling and drooling on the kitchen floor as Katie places a careful thumb on the phone screen to wake it up.

She offers it to Miss Brown.

“Thank you dear,” says the nursery school manager politely. “What a good helper you are.”

Katie blushes and grins, swinging her hips and feeling so glad that she’s wearing her special tartan dress today. And then she’s able to draw her hypnotized eyes away from the grown-up’s pretty necklace long enough to see Miss Brown’s face as she reads the text message.

What an angry face. So angry, that Katie would pick her doll back up, something to comfort herself, if silly, babyish Jessie wasn’t still playing with it.

“Well, then,” says Miss Brown, putting the necklace away, and Katie almost asks to see it again, just for a little longer, before she remembers that she has her hairband, she has the tingles in her brain that will continue to make her feel as right as rain.

“I’d better call Jessie’s daddy and your mummy,” Miss Brown says, pulling out her own phone. She strokes Katie’s face fondly. “My goodness, all that time pretending, you must be so tired! Time to have a lovely rest, let your mummy and daddy take care of you for real.” She pats Katie’s head lightly. “And it’s okay, something the good doctor took care of last week, she changed the setting on the hairband. You won’t be too clever for Jessie. You’ll be like twins, both babbling and gurgling together. So sweet!”

Katie giggles. She knew it already, the tingles from the hairband encouraging the final exit of her intelligence, the school learning and maturity she had battled to keep hold off leaving her head with the gentlest, barely perceptible tickle.

“Sit down on your bum,” Miss Brown tells the former teen agent. “I’ll get both you silly babies that orange squash I promised.”

Katie does as she’s told, sitting down heavily beside Jessie, planting a clumsy but heart-felt kiss on her friend’s cheek.

Miss Brown coos approvingly. “Such good babies! Oh, Katie, your mummy’s going to be over the moon!”

Katie grins, blinking stupidly as she wets herself, and she knows that everything is going to be okay. There’s nothing for Jessie or Katie to worry about. Nothing at all. Because Mummies and Daddies gets to take responsibility. They can have all the baggage. They can go on the best of guilt trips.