Emotional Support Human

BY KB HURST

I was twelve, watching my dear old dad dying. Mother held my hand, and together, we cried when he finally took his last breath. It was devastating to me at such a young age. 

I wished I could have my dad back, and something miraculously happened. My mother had enrolled us in a program to “adopt” a new dad. You have heard of emotional support dogs, cats, and even birds. Well, there was a new program being offered to adopt a human. Adopting a dad or Mom is not like adopting a child. You could do that, too, still, but these reanimated humans were different. You could upload your deceased loved one’s memories to this Emotional Support Person. It was like cloning but only cloning their minds. 

 In the days following my real dad’s funeral, my mother went into a deep depression. It seems strange to most people to agree upon this type of thing, but the grief my mother endured at the death of my father was something preternatural. She no longer cooked, cleaned, or went out with friends, and I had to do most of the chores around the house. It wasn’t until her friend Debbie came over one afternoon and saw the state of things that she told my mother about the Center for Renewal of Life. 

I didn’t understand it at first. It all seemed weird, but we picked up my “new dad” from a laboratory in the big city. He would be set up almost like a new laptop, with memories of my old dad. It was to help with taking the pain away, no different than adopting a dog or cat after your beloved pet died. It wasn’t cloning either, as that was still illegal in most countries. It piqued my mother’s interest long enough she began researching it online and talking to others who had done it. When her research was fully completed, she had made her mind up. 

 I asked my mother once where they got the bodies for this little service.  

“They were dislocated members of society that had no reason to stay in the life they were leading. Some were addicts, homeless, or just didn’t want to live the lives they were dealt. I think the lab makes them forget their old lives, and then they are given new memories.” She was barely paying attention and always had her head stuck in her papers or books. 

I recall the day we picked out our new “Adoptable Dad” from the Center for Renewal of Life. There were plenty of prospects all photographed and put in a slide show. If there was one my mother found aesthetically pleasing, then she could punch a red button on the table in front of her. Once she picked him out, they would go on to sound and movement. She could see how he danced, walked, or ran if she didn’t mind the “adopt a dad’s” voice. If she had any cooking skills, that would be a plus. It did not take my mother long to pick out our first “adoptable dad.” There were contracts signed and other “legalities,” but nothing that would be set in stone, according to the Center for Renewal Life legal teams. It was an approximate science as of now, so that is why we had to acclimate him to us. Sometimes, the old memories of the person would interfere with the new ones. If the individual never acclimated, the buyer could return him for a full refund or exchange that person. 

We were given the task of naming our new dad and setting up his learning station in our home for several weeks to familiarize himself with our hobbies and routines and tap into the memories he was provided by the Center for Renewal of Life.

“Frank,” as we had named him, seemed to catch on quickly. He was not what I had pictured for an “Adoptable Dad,” as he was pudgy and had a round face with curly dark hair. My father was tall, blonde, and very handsome. Perhaps my mother wanted something that didn’t wholly remind her of my real dad. He was nice enough and did make my mother laugh. He made me laugh, too. He sometimes asked me things about things I did with my real dad. At first, I was annoyed, but then I soon forgot about all the weirdness and just went with it. 

Frank was a good dad. He was attentive to my mother; he managed to hold down a well-paying job at the bank. He would cook and sometimes clean. But as with anything, Frank did not last.

One of these “replacements” life spans does not usually last longer than about seven years. I wasn’t sure why, but Frank had begun to fail miserably at his chores after the mark of the seventh year. He started to get angry or sad for no reason. Then, he became depressed and would lie in bed for days at a time. That is when my mother knew it was time to turn Frank in so they could put him down. It sounds cruel, but it really wasn’t. It was what the replacements had signed up for. Euthanasia was the only answer we were given. We said our familiar goodbyes, but there was no more sorry for Frank than a pet. We mourned him, but we learned quickly to move past it. We didn’t know what had made Frank stop “working.” In those early days, we didn’t want to know. We just wanted to stop feeling the lonely baggage of grief. 

Soon, we received a new replacement, his name was Martin. He was older looking than my mother, nearly ten years older. He was a bit stiff, and again, I suspected it was because my mother wanted something to divert her from the previous “dads” or, in her case, husbands. Each new “dad” was a play on how my mother felt at the time of the adoption. Frank had made her laugh after the death of my real father, and Martin was a bit like a stern father figure. He insisted on everyone attending church and sitting at the table for meals. I was no longer allowed to sit on the sofa while I ate and watched the television. I would never have moved out if I had not lived with Martin. Some good came from him. He helped me get my credit in order and set me up in an apartment. I also think it was in my mother’s opinion I should be out living on my own. I was 21, after all. 

Martin, sad to say, only lasted two years. He died of natural causes one afternoon after church. He was sitting in the living room chair, and suddenly, he grabbed his chest and was gone in moments. 

Martin wasn’t gone a full hour, and the Center for Renewal of Life was carrying him off when my mother was already on the phone requesting a replacement.  

“Mom, it seems very fast. Don’t you want time to grieve?” I asked her.

She would not hear reason.

When the Center of Renewal of Life advised my mother she would have to wait six months, she became enraged and asked for a full refund. 

“The last two replacements you sent me were defunct! The first couldn’t even last a decade, and the second died of natural causes. Now explain why you cannot send me a list of suitable replacements to pick out. What am I paying you for?”

I had to leave. I could not hear my mother’s anger any longer. What she needed was time to grieve and move on like any average person would do in any normal circumstances. Instead, she was using the replacements as a way to fend off her grief. 

She was inconsolable for weeks, then something happened. I spent the day at work stressed about new tasks I had to do for my boss. I worked late, got home, ate, and was in bed at about 9 reading. I received a phone call. It was from a police officer who had been called to my mother’s home.

My mother was dead. 

Debbie had found her when she went to pick her up for a lunch date. 

I was questioned by the police, who had found her in a pile of glass. At first, they assumed it was suicide by the way they found her writs bleeding. Only there was damage to the front door, showing signs of a break-in. Things were strung about, and glasses on the counter were unwashed. It wasn’t like my mother, but she had not been okay. She had been severely depressed again. It was no wonder the police thought it was suicide at first glance at the untidy kitchen. They searched for her murderer for days until they finally concluded it was probably someone looking for quick cash. It was an unfortunate social climate as of late. Everyone with nothing wanted something. I noticed my old neighborhood- the one I had lived in until I was an adult- was now not a very good area to live in. Crime has become worse in recent years. 

Debbie, my mother’s oldest friend, helped me plan the small funeral. My mother had a decent life insurance policy that took care of everything. Flowers, food, and all that rubbish. 

People I didn’t know came to say goodbye to my mother. I mainly sat staring at everyone. I was tired and decided to clean up and send everyone home. Everyone left the wake except for Debbie. She stayed and helped me clean and arrange some things.

The house was now mine; I could stay or sell it. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I just missed my mother. 

Several days passed, and I was still trying to figure out what I wanted to do when Debbie came over to visit.

“Jay, look at you! Have you taken a shower?”

I smiled. “I just got home from a run,” I lied. The last thing I needed was for anyone to feel sorry for me.

“Well, I wanted to come and check on you. I made a lasagna for you.”

I accepted my defeat and began to open it up and dig in. 

“Would you like a plate?” I asked, realizing my rudeness. 

Debbie shook her head at me and then sat down on the couch. 

“Have you given any thought to getting a new mom?”

I scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

“I understand, but it seems that maybe it could help,” she said, looking around at the mess I had left. “A mother always knows what is best.” 

“Yes, I can hire a housekeeper for that, and I have you!”

She smiled. “Jay, you know what I mean. I’m just saying it is an option.”

“I know, but I’m not sure it is an option I want right now.”

“You may not know, but a replacement takes several weeks now. You could always sign up in case you change your mind. If not, you can cancel. I just hate the thought of you being here alone. Both parents are gone now.”

“I always have you and Johnny,” I said, referring to Debbie and her husband.

“About that, my mother has been ill for a while. We are moving back to Stonerock Village, so in a sense, you will be alone.”

I put down my fork. “No,” I said. I had gotten used to Debbie over the last few years. She had become a regular part of our lives. She had helped my mother through all the replacements and my father’s death, and now she was going away.

“I’m just a call away. But it would ease my mind knowing you had someone looking after you. Your mother would want that. I’m still angry over the fact that the police haven’t found who murdered her.”

I patted Debbie on the shoulder. She was getting upset. “Things are rough these days for a lot of people. They found silverware gone; I’m guessing they robbed her for money.”

“Sick people out there. Another reason I want you to have someone with you!” 

######

I called the Center for Renewal of Life the following Monday and signed up for an adoptable mom.

It felt weird sitting in the viewing room. The last time I had been with my Mom, now I was picking out a mom.

I flipped through the screen of photos and finally landed on one that seemed to be the “motherly” type. 

She had shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair. Her eyes were bright green, and she was the only one smiling in her photo. None of the others smiled. I thought she looked kind. I felt comfortable in her presence, even though I had only seen a photo of her.

I pressed the red button, and a woman came to assess my choice. 

“Mr. Reinhart, you have made a wonderful choice. When would you like to schedule the in-person assessment?”

“I don’t need an in-person assessment.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, very sure. Let’s just get to the contract and all of that.”

“Okay,” said the Representative. As part of your payment plan, your mother had previously opted into having at least 10 years of memories uploaded. If you opt-in to do the same thing, your payments will be cheaper per month as well. If anything, a loved one can use those if they adopt another Jay Reinhart.

“So, my mother’s memories can be used for this Adoptable mother?”

“Yes, unless you opt-in for a completely new model. In this case, no memories will be saved, and you will interact with a new mother, starting fresh. It would be as though you were living with someone that had amnesia.”

“No, let’s definitely include the memory clause.”

I was set up within an hour. I sat in my living room for two hours as they brought in the new mother. She looked perfect in every way. She stared into space like a zombie until they placed her in a chair next to my sofa. 

I tipped the men who brought her and then sat before her. A cord hanging from her wrist looked like it was attached to her neck. I had not seen this before; my mother had always done the set-ups with the adoptable fathers. 

The instructions came with her, and I read them all. I had to say some sort of hypnotic verse to bring everything to the forefront. 

“Bunnies are running on my roof,” I read the line out loud. I felt ridiculous. The new mother in front of me still needed a name. That was next on the list.

I had not thought about it. She reminded me of Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz, and she even looked like her. So, I decided on the name Judy.

“Hello, Mother, I’m Jay Reinhart and your new name is Judy.”

I felt even dumber doing this. But then something happened.

Her face lit up like lightning, and she smiled brightly at me. 

“Jay!” She stood up and came over and gave me the biggest bear hug I had ever received in my life. 

“I missed you so much!”

“Hi, Judy,”

“Call me Mom. Oh my gosh! You must be starving. Let me make you your favorite dish! Hamburger and fries!”

I smiled and watched as my new Mom went into the kitchen. I heard a loud clamoring of dishes. Then I watched in awe as this new mother did everything wrong. She didn’t know how to turn on the stove, prepare meat, or use the oven. This was why you opted for the in-person assessment.

I laughed and went into the kitchen.

“Here, let me help,” I pulled out a pan, put on one of the frozen burgers, tossed some seasoning on it, and then cut up some onion and pickle. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t remember how,” Judy said with a distraught look.

“It’s okay. I’m a little new to this, too.”

She smiled up at me big with wide eyes as she watched me. Judy was learning as I was showing her. She practiced flipping the burger and then laughed excitedly like a small child.

When the burgers were done, we sat at the dinner table.

It was nice having something there again. 

“Your burger is bigger than mine. That is because you are a growing young man. Tell me, do you have a girlfriend?”

I shook my head.

“A boyfriend? I don’t judge. Good mothers never judge.”

“No, no boyfriend either.” I smiled.

I spent the next several weeks getting to know my new “mom.” I hated to admit it, but it did help the pain of losing my real Mom. She was attentive, listened to me talk about my job, friends, and life’s problems, and, in many ways, was better at attentiveness than my real mother had been.

I was packing up some of my things from my old apartment and moving them to my old house, which I now own when I received a phone call. It was from one of the detectives who had been investigating my natural mother’s murder.

“Hello Jay, my name is Detective Barnes. Is now a good time?”

“Sure,”

“Great, I was going over some paperwork that I received about your mother’s death. I wanted to ask you again about your whereabouts the night your mother passed away.”

I sat down, feeling a heaviness in my chest. Was I now a suspect in my mother’s death?

“I was at work till about seven, then I went home, ate a sandwich, and was in bed reading until I received a phone call about her death.”

“Okay, I do have a rather strange question. We already checked your alibi, and we know you didn’t murder your mother. She died sometime in the afternoon before she was found by her friend, Debbie. We found DNA at the site, but it didn’t match anyone in our database. Did your mother have any visitors the day of the murder?”

“No, not that I know of. The only people she had in the house were Debbie and me. I know we had only had someone there in over two months. The last person she was with was a replacement, Martin. He died.”

“Yes, I know about the replacements. There is nothing in the system that matches Martin’s replacement. I will keep looking. Perhaps she invited a stranger in.”

I felt tired suddenly after the phone call. 

It brought back my longing for my real mother. 

I finished gathering the last items in my apartment and put them in the back of my car.

When I arrived at my house, Judy was cooking.

It smelled nice, but from the looks of it, it was another kitchen nightmare.

“Jay, look, I’m making tacos!”

I held in my laugh. The tacos were made of burger meat, but the toppings were all wrong. Judy had the taco meat on potato chips with French dressing. Judy looked at my expression and sat at the table in tears.

“I’m the worst cook in America! I always have been. I don’t know how my own mother didn’t beat me to death when she had the chance.” She said, crying.

I knew nothing like that had ever happened to my real Mom. Was Judy remembering her other life? I hoped not; she would have to be sent back. I did not want to lose Judy, even though I had only had her for two months. 

“I am sorry. I am wrong. All of this is wrong, my sweet Jay. I miss you,” she said in an odd tone.

“I’m right here, Mom,” I said, but it still felt weird to call Judy’s Mom.

“No, I mean, I miss you. I was standing here, not there, when he came in. Then the glass, it all went black.”

“Wait, Judy- I mean mom- what went black?”

“The day it got black, and I woke up, and now I miss you.”

“It is fine, Mom. Why don’t you go take a break and watch some television? I have to make a call.”

I knew those were not Judy’s memories. Could she be remembering who murdered her?

I had to find out. I called the Representative who wrote up the contract for Judy and me at the Center for Renewal of Life. 

The woman was friendly and cheery. 

“I am calling regarding my adoptable Mom. In the contract, I was told I could have ten years of my real Mom’s memories inside of her. Does it say, “Which ten years?”

“There are only ten to fifteen years of random things. It is not meant to be consecutive, so the replacement can build on those years with new memories. If we do not leave some gaps, they forget things. Things go awry.”

“Would it, by chance, include any time when my Mom died? Would those be memories?”

“Well, it isn’t ideal because it would create distress in the replacement. It is, therefore, not possible.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I was just curious, is all.”

I hung up the phone. I didn’t believe the Representative. I knew that Judy had to see who murdered my mother. I decided to take Judy to see Detective Barnes.

“Where are we going?”

“Judy- Mom, I’m taking you to meet someone. You see, you might be able to help me solve solve a murder case.”

“Oh, that is exciting! Like Law and Order.”

I smirked. “Yeah, like Law and Order.”

When we got to the police station, Detective Barnes was already waiting for us. We went in, and Judy sat down. She was a ball of excitement, and I was afraid she would lose focus and forget what she had told me.   

Detective Barnes smiled at her. She seemed very excited to be able to help. I let Detective Barnes question her as best he could.

“Judy, a little while ago, you said you saw a man inside your home, and then it went black. That was according to Jay. Can you elaborate?”

“Oh, yes. I was sitting at a table with him. I think I gave him a glass of water, and then the lights all went black.”

“Do you know what this man might have looked like?”

“Um, I think he was tall. But he might have been short and fat.”

“Okay, it’s okay. Did the stranger have any characteristics that stood out?”

“He was in a blue shirt and might have been wearing a suit.”

The man she was remembering sounded like Martin. It also sounded like Frank. The memories were not helping solve my mother’s murder.

Can you tell us anything else? It is okay if you don’t understand it or it seems weird. We are okay, anything you might recall.”

Judy sat for a moment and then looked at me. 

“There was a man – just the other day. I was at the grocery store. He kept watching me. I could have sworn he was following me. I don’t want to say he was. I just found it strange.”

“What did the man look like?”

“He was wearing a ball cap. He was tall and had on a sweatshirt with bears on it.”

“Was he thin? Bald? Fat? Anything else you can make out?”

“I want to say he was fat.”

“Okay, thank you. You have helped us out quite a lot.”

I didn’t know what to make out of the fact she thought a fat man was following her at the store. She had not mentioned that earlier. I didn’t even know she had taken the car to the store. I didn’t even know Judy could drive. 

There was a lot to unpack. Most of it made zero sense.

That evening, we were both quiet at dinner. Judy didn’t want to say anything else out of embarrassment for being unable to do more. We ate soup I had bought at the market on our way home from the police station. 

“These memories are not mine, are they?” She asked finally in between soup sips.

I gulped.

“I mean, I know there is something you aren’t telling me. I know I’m not allowed to ask.”

I looked at her. This was the first time I had seen a replacement have a cognitive thought. I don’t mean that as a jerk. They all were so programmed before. It had always been advised to avoid letting them remember their old memories. Things could go wrong if they did. They could hurt the person they were adopted to out of confusion. In worst-case scenarios, lash out at you. So they euthanized those mistakes- all part of the package deal when the person signed up for the program. It was advertised as a whole-body donation, like an organ donor, but the whole package. It wasn’t until I “adopted” Judy as my “new mom” that I realized this. My real mother never explained it to me. I had to find out by reading my contract with Judy.

“Judy, I think we should talk.”

She looked at me wide-eyed. She put down her spoon. 

“Okay, son, anything.” 

“Judy, do you ever have memories that seem out of place? Like the ones you asked me about where things went black?”

“Yes,” she said, suddenly growing worried.

“It’s okay. I need to explain some things to you. I just hope I’m doing the right thing.”

“You never do anything bad, Jay.” she smiled.

“Judy, do you remember waking up here in the house with me?”

“I do that every morning.”

“Well, do you remember ever waking up in another place before me?”

Judy sat for a while and then looked worried. She nodded her head slowly. 

Judy, those are your actual memories. The other ones with me as a kid, the man in the kitchen when everything went black, are my real mother’s memories. At some point, you volunteered to be part of an emotional support human program. I don’t know how else to explain it. You are currently a stand-in stand-in for my real Mom, who died. All her memories are now part of your memories. Let me know if you have any questions.

Judy sat in silence for a long while. I was growing afraid of what her reaction might be when she began to cry. Hysterically cry and laugh.

“Oh, Jay, I thought I was going insane! It all makes sense now. I sometimes would wake up in the middle of the night disoriented. I kept looking for something or someone. Jay, I wasn’t a good person before becoming your “mom.” she said suddenly.

I had a hard time thinking that Judy could be anything but sweet. However, the volunteers for this project had most likely been outsiders of society previously to this program.

“Judy, I highly doubt you were anything but kind.”

“You are sweet, Jay, that is why I didn’t leave. I started remembering things a few weeks ago. Things about my old life. Things like what I used to do for money and how I nearly died from getting beaten on the streets. How I hurt people and didn’t care. I hurt a lot of people, Jay. I was a thief, a liar, an all-around bad human. But then I had other memories; those must have been your Mom’s. Your real Mom’s. Tell me, how did your Mom die? Maybe there is something I can do to help you. Maybe this is why I volunteered for this program. I wanted to do something good to repay my debt to society.” 

I told Judy about how my Mom was found. I explained everything to her. I talked about her depression, losing my dad, and how we got Frank, then Martin. 

“Jay, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything.” 

“Do you have a picture of all three men?”

I pulled out my smartphone and showed her my father, Frank, and Martin.

“That is the man that followed me at the grocery store.”

“Which one?”

“Frank. I know I have seen him before. It makes sense. I remembered him, and that is why I noticed him. How did Frank go? Did he die?”

“He was taken back by the Center for Renewal of Life.”

“I think he is the man that killed your mom.”

######

I had some regrouping, and I wasn’t sure how to tell Detective Barnes. It all seemed so dramatic, like some movie mystery of the week. 

Then something happened.

I was coming home from work one evening when I noticed the front door to my house was wide open. When I got inside, the house had signs of a struggle. I was worried for Judy. Where was she?

Then I heard a scream coming from upstairs.

When I got upstairs to where Judy was, I saw Frank.  

“Frank?”

He was holding a gun.

“I want to know everything about what is happening to me. I know you both know something.”

“Jay, I tried to tell him that it is the Renewal for Life Center, not us to blame!”

“Frank,”

“My name is Chester, not Frank. I want to get rid of these damn memories.” he was frustrated and dangerous. I moved slowly to try and keep him from hurting me or Judy.

“Okay, Chester, what do you want to know?”

“Who you are and what you did with my wife.”

I was getting confused now. 

“Your wife?”

“Yeah, she used to live here. She lived here with her boy- my boy- and now you two lousy assholes are here in their place. I followed you, and I know something fishy is going on.”

“Frank- I mean Chester- your memories are of me and my Mom. You were a fill-in for my dad, who died.”

Judy stood up then. “Chester, it is true. I am your wife’s stand-in – who you think is your REAL wife. She died. Someone murdered her.”

Frank, aka Chester, stood for a long while and then finally resigned to the fact that something was going on. He insisted he didn’t kill my Mom. He even said he had an alibi, but his memories of me were still that of a scrawny teenager. After a glass of Scotch and Judy’s insistence on calling Detective Barnes, we all sat down and discussed what was happening.

“So you remember nothing after the Center for Renewal for Life took you away that day? They said they had to Euthanize you. They said you were wrong and needed to be fixed.”

“No, I was remembering my life before. That is why I said my REAL name is Chester. I know it sounds crazy, kid, but I loved your mother. I loved you. I’d like to think she loved me even if I’m just some emotional support human or whatever you call it.”

Detective Barnes did some checking and found out that Frank, aka Chester, was, in fact, nowhere near my mother when she died. He was still at the Center for Renewal for Life labs getting rehabbed. Apparently, it can take years to get back to being programmable. 

“So we are back to square one. Who murdered your mother?”

Frank looked at me and at the detective. “Would this sound crazy if I said that I think I have an idea of who murdered your mom?”

“No, say what you think. Please.” Detective Barnes said.

“I can’t say for sure, but I remember some things. You see, I got released because they thought I was fine. I got placed with a young family, and at first, everything was fine. But I knew I didn’t belong to them. I only knew your Mom and you. So when I started to remember some stuff, I ran away. Till I got here. I’m sure the lab is looking for me, but I don’t care. They do weird stuff there. I don’t want to sound crazier than I already do – but I saw them reanimate the dead. They brought a guy back from the dead. He was dead!”

“If what you are saying is true, could your mother have known this too?” Detective Barnes asked me.

“No, she would have told me. Who do you think killed my Mom, Martin?”

“Martin?”

“The guy that came after you.”

‘Oh,” Frank laughed. “Of course he did. No, I don’t know for certain. But there is a lot of stuff going on in my mind. I still think your Mom knew too much. I think the Center killed your Mom.” Frank said.

The theory was a good one if what Frank was saying was true. Only, it didn’t add up. How did they know my Mom knew too much? Had she told them? My mind went back to that day. She was so angry with them on the phone. Maybe she had said something someone didn’t like. 

When we left the station, Frank asked if he could stay with us because he had nowhere else to go. I let him stay, but none of this made sense.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I was up for hours, replaying everything repeatedly in my mind. Over and over, the same thoughts kept coming back to me. Something was wrong. 

I woke up in the middle of the night to something. I heard my bedroom door creak, and then I saw Judy.

Judy was standing in my bedroom, holding Frank’s gun.

“Judy!”

I thought she was sleepwalking, but when I turned on the light, she was red-faced and had tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

“Judy, what is it?”

“I know who killed your mom.”

“Judy, who?” I asked, staring at the gun.

“It was me.”

Impossible. 

“What are the odds, right? I was a druggy looking for quick cash. I came to this very house after I saw your Mom go in. She was alone. I went to the door and asked her if she could help – maybe let me use the phone. She let me in, and that is when she offered me a drink of water. I nearly failed to complete my evil task. But then I got a text from my dealer. He said I could get what I needed if I had the cash. I saw your Mom. She looked sad, tired, and lonely. I picked up the glass of water and hit her as hard as possible. I went outside and broke the door window so it looked like a break-in. Then I woke up, and I was there. What are the chances that the degenerate you got was me- the druggy who killed your Mom for some quick cash.”

I became sick. And I heard Judy cock the gun. She was going to kill me.

“I can’t let you tell anyone; you’re such a good boy, Jay.”

She fired the gun, but it didn’t hit me. Instead, Frank came in just then. He grabbed Judy and kept her from hitting me. When the gun fell to the floor, she tried to pick it up in an attempt to shoot herself.

That failed, too. 

I had to complete paperwork with the Center for Renewal of Life the following day. They didn’t want to get sued by Frank or me, a.k .a. Chester. I was given a check for a very hefty amount on the promise I would not tell anyone. 

Judy was sent back to be – you guessed it- reprogrammed. I couldn’t believe it. The woman who murdered my Mom. I had grown to care for her. I think I even loved her.

Weirdly, having Frank back was nice. He had been there once before, but now, he had his own memories. Before he volunteered with Renewal for Life, he was a stockbroker. What are the odds? He no longer liked the fast-paced life, so he gave up everything. 

I’m grateful he did. 

I wonder if Judy will ever remember me like Frank did. I hope she forgets me forever. According to the Center for Renewal of Life, Judy will not be placed within a hundred-mile radius of me. 

Let’s hope.