A Saturday in the Life

We’d been bouncing down the hallway for about an hour when my head stopped swimming from the tranquilizer.

My wrists were starting to hurt from the ropes and I needed to pee badly.  A half-transformed himbo hunter was sitting near me, his arms wrapped around his knees.  He looked so out of it.

I hate when I don’t finish a job.  This guy was didn’t deserve to be stuck halfway for the rest of his life.  Knowing Montgomery, he’d probably be into it.  Another idiotic muscle whore for his collection, except this one would be literally blank.  If you wanted to fuck him, you’d have to give step by step instructions.  More a drone than a person.

“Jake,” I heard someone hiss.

I had my eyes on the drones face — it hadn’t been him.  The other three hunters had gone up front, leaving us alone.

“JAKE!”  It was louder this time, and more urgent.  “C’mon bro, we’ve got maybe ten minutes before we hit Chicago.  You gotta get out of those ropes!”

I twisted around trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.  It took a long two minutes before I found the tiny reflection in the van door handle.  That fake chrome that looks like painted on plastic.

And within it, my distorted reflection.  Pumped with muscle, barely clothed.  I’d turned a thousand guys into this kind of caricature.  I was one of them.

My attempt at escape.  Now my prison.

“Jake,” my reflection hissed.   “Get your shit together.”

I wanted to reply, but the gag in my mouth was doing its job.  I have a shallow moan and tried to flick my eyes at the half-himbo beside me.

The guy in the mirror… he was me, right?  Maybe…

Just maybe…

Inside the mirror, my reflection began to weave a spell.  Twisting his hands and waving his arms.  I felt a shudder go through me as energy flowed into the van.

Beside me the half-transformed man seemed to click into focus.  His eyes came alive and he released his knees.  No longer terrified.

“Hey dude,” he said in a rumbling bass.  “We gotta get you outta here.”

I tried to speak through my gag and ended up wedging it even deeper into my mouth.  He hurt a faint gurgle, nothing else.

“Damn dude,” he chuckled, working on the knot that held my hands together.  “These dudes would be like… really good at kinky shit.”

I spoke into my gag again.  C’mon dummy, just pull the end.  It’s like a shoelace, it’ll come right part.  We can get out of this van and disappear into the sunset.  No… don’t do that, you’ll tangle it…

“Shit bruh…” he giggled.  “This is like… real hard.”  He reached one hand down and cupped by aching cock.  “Like… REAL HARD.”

I needed him to hurry up.  Once we got off the highway, our chances dropped badly.  There were three guards in the front, and maybe I could take them.  Once we got to Montgomery there’s be dozens.  Hundreds.  Too much for me.

“Hey dude,” the himbo said, finally pulling the gag from my mouth.  “Do you know how to do this shit?  There’s no like... big red button or whatever.”

“Pull the end of the cord,” I snapped.  “Just by my wrist.”

“Okay, thanks,” he grinned, sliding the gag back up.

i raged, but two minutes later my hands were free.  I jerked down my gag and told him to get away.  Within ten seconds my remaining ropes had fallen to the ground.

“Let’s go!” my reflection whispered at me.  “C’mon man, run!”

I could feel us slowing down.  Maybe a stop sign.  There wouldn’t be a better chance than this.

I flung open the van door and rolled out, nailing my shoulder in the process.  I came to a stop on hard concrete and looked for the best way to run.

There wasn’t one.  We were in an underground parking garage, and I was surrounded by Montgomery’s men.

Nice idea while it lasted.

————

They escorted my new friend off somewhere.  He was chatting happily with his captors, thrilled to make new friends.

Me?  They tied a blindfold over my eyes and shuffled me into an elevator.  I expected to end up in a cold cell somewhere, but I recognized the familiar chime of the doors.  Montgomery’s office.  They were taking me right to the big man.

“Jake,” I heard the disappointed tone of Montgomery’s voice.  “I’m sorry it came to this.  I never meant to cause you harm.”

I felt hands reaching behind my head, fiddling with the knot.  My stomach churned — this had never happened before.  I’d met Montgomery more times than I could count, but I’d never been allowed to look.  He probably thought if I couldn’t see his image in a mirror, there was no way for me to take the upper hand.

The blindfold fell away and I found myself staring into a set of green eyes.  A lined face.  Older, but unrecognizably…

“You have your mother’s eyes,” Montgomery shared.

—————

One of his secretaries — my work — got me a glass of water while I processed the news.  It was unbelievable that I was related to Montgomery, but the resemblance was uncanny.

I tried to tell myself that it was just a coincidence, or maybe he was a long-lost uncle, but Montgomery put a stop to that.

“I’m your Dad,” he said softly, the lines around his eyes crinkling up in pride.  “And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say it.”

I motioned at one of his assistants, a young blond man with a truly spectacular ass that jiggled as he put paperwork into Montgomery’s briefcase.  Into... my father’s briefcase.  It sounded weird to say.  Mom always said my father ran out on us, and once when she got drunk that she’d been the one to run away.  Somehow it was easier to believe the sober story.

“I guess we have the same taste in men,” I joked, pointing at the blond.  “Maybe it’s genetic.”

“Oh, those guys?” Montgomery chuckled.  “I’m actually straight.  Think of it like... putting your kids artwork on the fridge.  Maybe it’s not exactly you’re style, but you’re proud of what he’s accomplished.”

“And so you hired me because....”

“Because it was the only real way I could talk to you,” Montgomery admitted.  “Even for a few minutes.  I promise, I’ll explain everything, by the time I’m done you’ll be sick of me talking.”

I broke the fourth wall and glanced out at you.

“I imagine so,” I said.  “Hopefully it’s worth the wait.”

“I'd like to show you the family house,” Montgomery said.  “It's a bit of a ride.  Maybe we can talk in the car?”

—————

The car was a limo.  Not one of these ridiculous stretch ones, but the kind that people in power actually use.  A driver, a partition, and a few seats in the back.  He offered me a drink but I declined.

“Still getting the tranquilizers out of my system,” I said, trying not to apologize for getting shot by one of his men.  “Probably best not to mix my drugs.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, pouring himself a double of something that smelled like a campfire.  

There’s scotch that smells like paint remover, and there’s scotch that smells like smokey peat.  He could afford the second.

I stared out the window and watched the city fall away into countryside.

“Between the woods and frozen lake...” I quoted.

“Robert Frost,” he said with a sad smile.  “My favourite poem actually.  You probably don’t remember, but I used to recite it to you every night.  The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I’ve got promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.  And miles to go before I sleep.  My way of explaining why I was never there, I suppose.”

“So you hired me,” I said, still not looking towards him.  “Because that’s the kind of father you are.”

“Honestly,” he said.  “Yes.  My life is deals and money and power - so that’s the way I’m most comfortable reaching out.  And it’s the only way I could do it without letting you know who I was.  The blindfold, the money... when you were a kid, you were always running away from home.  You always wanted freedom.  Nothing wrong with that by the way, a man doesn’t accumulate my wealth unless he’s wired for freedom.”

“You never thought to call and say ‘Hey Jake, it’s your Father’?” I asked.  “Maybe you’d like to know you’re defended from royalty?”

“Money isn’t the same thing as true power,” Montgomery said.  “Not that it matters. You wouldn’t have enjoyed the kind of like I could offer.  The way you live – without private security, without a plan or a schedule... that’s impossible when you’re a Montgomery.  So I let you be someone else.”

“For fucks sake,” I said snappily.  “Make up a lie.  Tell me you own a dental office in Minneapolis.  I woulda believed it, and you can afford to put up the front.  And you’re never photographed, I never would have found out the truth.”

“Jake...” he said.  “That’s a child's idea.”

“I’m no child.”

"I know,” he said.  “But believe me, the way I did it... this was safer for you.  It was safer that you never knew me.”

“What do you know about my safety,” I groused.  “I mean... you left me alone for how long?  I don’t even remember you!”

“I kept an eye on you,” he admitted.  “Always.  You and your mother, until she passed away.  I’m sorry, I wish I could have spared you that pain.  Alcohol kills slowly, but it kills just the same.”

I looked at the glass in his hand.  He paused, then took another sip.

“Security has been following you for decades,” he admitted.  “I’ve got everything tapped.  Your credit card, your phone, even Alan’s phone and email.  That’s how I’ve kept one step ahead of you all these years.  And whenever you’re near Chicago, I find some poor soul in my employ who needs your services.”

“You’ve been following me?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

He raised one back.  Just one more piece of evidence that we were from the same stock.

“Your luck never ran out,” he said gently.  “You never wondered why?  Thousands of men, all across the country, and the FBI never put a case together?  Or even when you were living in that rundown apartment in LA... but you had neighbours you could always count on...”

“This is creepy.”

“I know,” he sighed.  “And I apologize.  “But it was the only way I could help.”

“So what changed?” I asked.  “You broke a lifetime of silent concern for... what?  You finally decided you need a ‘#1 FATHER’ mug?”

“I made a mistake,” he admitted.  “Sending you after Spencer Shaw.  The son of a rival, and it went sideways.  His father is Zeke Shaw, who I’m sure you know is –“

“Everybody knows him,” I said.  “He was on the front cover of Newsweek.”

“That’s right,” Montgomery agreed.  “And he’s pissed at you.  He’s ready to come after you with every weapon at his disposal, and you should know he’s got a few.  I made a mistake messing with his son.  If you were a father...”

“If you were a father,” I said.  “You would have known.”

“I deserved that, didn’t I?”

“We’re not done yet,” I shot back.  “I’ve got miles to go before I sleep.”

“Not so many miles left,” Montgomery sighed.  “Jake, the real answer is we had to bring you in or else you’d be dead by now.  I’m sorry about the way I did it, but I won’t apologize for saving your life.”

I shut up and stared out the window.  After a minute the car slowed on the highway and turned onto a side road.  Then another side road, and finally through an iron gate.  My father said ‘the family house’ the same way he said ‘the car’.

It was a castle and he knew it.

—————

I recognized the smell first.  Wood and books and fresh herbs.

Mom had raised me in a two bedroom apartment.  We didn’t have books, just a TV that needed me to hold the bunny ears while she watched.  I remember dreaming about having a big house somewhere, full of toys and books and antiques.

Maybe it hadn’t been a dream.

Montgomery showed me around.  The grand hall.  The study.  The library.  The kitchen.  I felt like I was wandering around a Clue board.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, they were familiar.  Recognizable.

“So...” I said, working up the nerve to ask.  “My power.  Did I get doused in radioactive slime as a baby?  Or maybe bitten by a radioactive spider?  Something radioactive, right?”

“Nothing like that,” he said, letting out a big laugh.  “No... it was always your mother’s power.  She could make a man do anything.  And I don’t mean convince him, not like a normal woman... I saw your Mom telling the gardener he needed to trim the higher branches, and suddenly he grew tall enough to do it.”

“So I inherited this,” I said.

“The only time I saw your power manifest was the Trauma,” Montgomery said.  I could hear it like that, Trauma, with a capital T.

“Trauma?” I asked.  “I don’t remember it until I was about halfway through puberty.”

“Did your Mom warn you?” he asked.

“Mom was gone by then,” I said, my stomach sinking at the memory.  I swallowed hard.  “She never told me anything.”

My father stayed silent for a minute.  Finally we got to a doorway at the end of a hall.

“You’ll have to tell me if you remember this,” he said, grabbing the big brass doorhandles and pushing the double doors open.  “Your bedroom.  I mean, we’ve got the guest room if you’ll stay the night, but this is where...”

I stepped inside and it was like a door unlocked in my mind.

“Daddy, watch me fly!” I called out, a toy rocket in my hand, bouncing off the bed and trying to touch the starts we’d painted on the ceiling.

“Daddy, read me something else!” I begged as he tucked me into bed and recited that same old poem again.

“Mommy, where are we going?” I asked, my eyes gummed up with sleep.  It was dark out and her breath sounded ragged.  “Is something wrong?”

“Be real quiet baby,” she whispered at me.  “We have to go for a little drive.  You can sleep in the car.”

“This is where she took me,” I said, looking at my Dad for the first time since that night.

“You were kidnapped coming home from school,” he revealed.  “One day, when we let our guard down for a moment.  She thought I was picking you up, I thought the nanny had you.”

“Mrs. Simmons,” I whispered.

“Yes.  But she was off visiting with family, and I got my days mixed up, and... we paid the ransom.  I brought in the best negotiator that money could buy, and he showed me files on the men who took you.  Three of them – tough and mean and willing to do anything for money.  So of course we paid the ransom.”

“But I was safe,” I said, trying to remember.  Maybe telling myself the story would help.

“You were safe,” he said, still looking relieved.  “But the men who took you... we never found them.  Just three young men, happy and healthy and not that bright.  They were letting you beat them at Super Mario Brothers and feeding you a chocolate milkshake.”

“I must have...”

“You kept yourself safe,” he said, looking me straight in the eye.  “Nobody can blame you for that.  But it scared your mother – she wanted to take you and go, to re-invent your life with a new name and a new place... and I didn’t want to lose my family.”

“But you didn’t come,” I said, accusing him of... I don’t know what.

“We fought for hours,” he said, looking very far away.  “Screaming and yelling.  And she agreed that you were safe in this house, at least for one more day.  I said ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow’, and dammit... she agreed.  But then you were gone.”

The moment was broken by the ring of his phone.  Typical Boomer – he probably didn’t know how to keep it on silent.

“Yes,” he said, taking the call.  “Good.”

Two words and he hung up.  Then he spoke to me.

“Come this way,” he said, turning around and walking out of the room.  I stood locked in place.  How do you leave a place when you’re just starting to remember?

Behind me his footsteps slowed, then stopped.  I heard him turn.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “You’re my son.  I shouldn’t speak to you like that.  There’s something you’ll want to see, and it’s time sensitive.”

—————

I let him lead me down towards the basement, then into a hidden elevator.  His eyescan unlocked it, and we were moving down beneath the earth.

“It’s a bunker,” he admitted.  “The house above, it’s just the top floors.  There’s an entire complex down here.  You could nuke Chicago, and we’d be safe.”

He walked me through a maze of tunnels and into a small room.  Screens covered the wall, and a half-dozen men with grim expressions sat around a table.

“This is our secure operations centre,” Dad told me.  “Are they ready to go?”

“Waiting on your order,” one of the grim faced men said.  The biggest TV showed grainy green footage.  Night vision, if you could trust the movies.

“Go.”

Men flooded the screen, kicking down doors.  There was an explosion of some kind, and chaos.  Even over a TV screen, I could tell this wasn’t gentle.  I rubbed my chest, hoping they were using tranquilizer darts like they’d used on me.

“CLEAR!” someone yelled over the screen.  “Three hostiles are down.  Target is secure.”

On the screen Alan’s face came into view, big as life.

“Don’t shoot,” he begged, crying.  “Don’t shoot me.”

“He trusts you,” Dad pointed at the screen.  “Can you tell him it’s okay?  My men can bring him here.  I’m sure he’d like a few answers too.”

“How do I...?”

Dad flicked his hand at one of the grim faced men.  He pushed a button on the table.

“You’re on,” he said.

“Alan, it’s Jake,” I said shakily.  “It’s okay.  You’re okay.  I’ve got... some incredible news to share.”

—————

My nerves were frazzled just watching the action.  Dad took me back upstairs and poured us both a double.

“You should be okay to have this,” he said, handing me the glass.  “I mean, I’m not a doctor or anything, but...”

I took it and sipped and breathed.  I needed it.  My only friend was safe, I was the heir to a billionaire’s fortune, and I finally understood that I wasn’t alone.

I caught my reflection in the mirror.

“Run,” it hissed at me.  “Run!”

My whole life, I’d been hearing that voice in the back of my head.  Run.  Move along.  Don’t stay too long, and for christ’s sake, don’t let anyone into your heart.

For the first time, I ignored it.

Dad told me old stories.  Things from my childhood.  I hated my kindergarten teacher.  I broke my leg falling out of an apple tree.  My first crush was a boy named Evan – we were both four years old.

It was getting late.  My eyes were starting to droop.

“Run!” my reflection urged me.

But I felt safe.  Dad refilled my glass again.  Again.

Until it fell out of my hand, shattering on the floor.

“Don’t worry,” he said generously.  “We’ll have someone clean that up.”

“I can’t...” I slurred.  “Why do I feel...”

“It’s okay,” he reassured me.  “Now that we know puberty is the trigger.  Now that the scanning tech is good enough.  Your mother was just too early, we could never figure it out, but...”

“RUN!!!” my reflection screamed at me.

“Why are you doing this...?” I mumbled.  “Why...?”

“It’s in my nature,” Dad said.

—————

I woke up in some kind of scanner.  I’ve never had an MRI, but the thumping noises I heard certainly lined up.  As near as I could tell, I was strapped to some kind of platform.

“Keep still,” a voice said over a speaker.  “We’re almost done.”

Instead, I screamed.  Rage.  Raw and primal.  I don’t like being out of control, and I didn’t like being betrayed, and I certainly didn’t like a two-for-one on those.

“Just one mo – hey, you can’t be in here.”

Thunk

“Wait, stop doi –“

Crunch.

“Oh shit brah,” I heard a familiar voice.  “There’s a big red button!”

BUZZZZZ

The light in the tube turned red.  The platform I was on started to move.

My buddy from the back of the van was leaning over me, trying his best to release my straps.  I raised my head weakly and took a look.

“Damn bro, these guys are mega kinky,” the himbo said, a wide grin plastered across his face.  “Do you know how to do this shit?”

“Push the ‘release’ button,” I said, pointing with my chin.  “The red one.”

“Dayum,” he grinned.  “I love a big red button!”

—————

Once we got out of the medical unit, I didn’t have a clue how to get to the surface.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” I asked.

“I dunno bro,” my himbo sidekick shrugged.  “I woke up like... over there,” he said, pointing at the next room over.  “But then I heard you screamin’ and... like... my job’s to get you untied.  Right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I said.  “You did great.”

“Thanks bro.”

Luckily my father is font of emergency exit maps.  I took a couple minutes to look one over, unworried about the doctors my sidekick had left unconscious in the MRI control booth.

They were going to be out for a while.

We made our way through a maze of hallways and eventually found the elevator.  Maybe it was the fire code, but the eye scanner only seemed required to go down.  Going up was as simple as pushing a button.

From there I knew the way.  Up through the basement.  Towards the front door.

That’s where we found my father sitting in the lounge, drinking yet another scotch.

“Hey Dad,” I said.  “Have you always wanted to be a massive prick?”

—————

My sidekick and I wrestled my father into a bathroom.  He had one of those big ornate mirrors over the sink, the kind that’s more frame than mirror, but it didn’t matter.  The moment he saw his reflection, I knew I had him.

“Let’s start with the hair,” I suggested.  “I’m thinking... blond.”

“Kid... look... you don’t have to do this,” Montgomery said, trying to bargain, even has his salt-and-pepper turned a nuclear shade of blond in the mirror.

“And let’s go with a centre-part,” I suggested.  “Big wavy curtains, hanging down over your eyes.”

“I’m your Dad,” he insisted.  “Show a little respect.”

“Of course, that look’s a little young for you,” I said, annoyed at his refusal to play along.  "I think it’d look better if you were... maybe 25?  Just old enough for your face to lean out, isn’t that right?”

In the mirror he morphed in front of us, losing decades in a second.  His skin was smooth and flawless.  His eyes sparkled with the kind of optimism you only find in the young.  His years of experience faded, and he looked...

“You look pretty dumb, don’tcha Dad.”

“Stop it,” he snapped at me.  “Stop it right now!”

“Don’t worry... bro,” I chuckled.  “I’m not a jackass.  We’re gonna make you an amateur bodybuilder.  Just pile on that muscle.  Not so much you’ll ever win a competition, but... enough that you’ll need to try.”

His reflection swelled.  In the real world, his eyes grew wide and terrified.  In the mirror, his wide eyes just made him look even more innocent.

“And don’t forget to show it off,” I told him.

His reflection’s clothes sucked in on themselves.  The expensive suit and tailored shirts were gone.  He was left in nothing but a thong and a croptop.

“Look at that,” I said to my sidekick.  “I think we’ll call him Monty.  What do you say Dad?  Do you wanna be Monty?”

“I ORDER YOU TO STOP!” he raged at me.

“That’s not the right answer,” I teased.  “By the way, Monty is one hell of a gay slut. Now does he wanna be Monty?”

“Hell yeah,” my reflection smirked.

One blink.  And there he was.

Monty stood in front of the mirror, flexing his newfound bulk.

“Dude, this is like... so fuckin’ sweet,” Monty crowed.

“Bro?” my sidekick asked.  “Why’d you make him hot?”

“It’s in my nature.”