Ascension Part VIII: You're On With Myra Collins, What's Your Question?

 

“What did you just say?” Myra asked.

“The man on the beach, what did the military do with him?”

Myra looked at Wyatt. Wyatt shook his head and instructed her to end the call. Myra nodded.

“I don’t know what happened to him. If I did I am sure I would not be at liberty to divulge that information.”

“They really do keep you in the basement with all of the other mushrooms don’t they?” The caller laughed before she continued. “They took him away. The military put him on one of their trucks and took him away where he will be kept in isolation until his GRMN2 status has been confirmed. If he has the virus your house guest will be moved to the incubation wards of the nearest hospital. Once his transformation is complete he’ll be sent to Alcatraz until his talents manifest after which time he’ll be sent to Area 51 for testing.”

“What are you talking about?” Myra asked. She looked at Wyatt pointedly. “What is she talking about?”

Wyatt remained silent.

“Wyatt.”

“Why do you think the Knoblickers keep breaking into hospitals?” The caller asked. “Hospitals hold the highest concentration of the virus. I bet you didn’t know that so many doctors have been infected and transformed, authorities have been pulling homeless people off the street, the few that are left, and disguising them as doctors to keep the public from discovering what has happened.”

Wyatt shook his head and mouthed, “Not true,” to Myra.

“I don’t believe you.” Myra said looking at the camera.

“Believe what you want, you better hope you don’t break an ankle or need your appendix removed in the near future.”

Wyatt walked into the camera shot. He looked at the camera and said, “Which is not our topic for today. We’re sorry we could not answer your question. Thanks for calling.” He said as he ended the call. He looked at Myra and walked out of the shot.

She looked at the camera. “Thank you Wyatt. Let’s take another call. Hello, this is Myra.”

“I have a question about the rations. What do I do if someone steals my ration tickets?” The caller asks.

Myra looked at the paperwork sitting on the table in front of her. She quickly consulted the list she had drafted earlier. It was a quick reference guide showing her which piece of documentation held the answer to an anticipated question. Theft resolution was noted on the back of the ration book and the page laying directly under it, both were to the left of the reference sheet. She quickly scooped up them up. Laying the page across her lap, she held up the book of ration tickets. “If you could get a close up Wyatt.”

Wyatt zoomed in and focused the shot, making the phone numbers on the back cover easy for viewers to read.

“If your ration tickets are stolen, you are going to want to call two numbers. The first number is an automated system which reports the theft to local authorities. You will enter your name, address, as well as your contact information when prompted. You will be issued a report or confirmation number. You must call the top number first, you will need that confirmation number in order receive your replacement ration tickets. Although ration offices are still in the process of being set up, websites as well as phone lines are already up and working. When you call the ration office, the automated system will collect your information again along with the confirmation number you received when you reported the theft. You will immediately be issued ration tickets for a powdered nutrition drink mix. These tickets will allow you to purchase a fifteen day supply of the mix for all members of your household. Once the confirmation number has been verified a new set of ration tickets will be mailed to you. The entire process should take less than five business days.”

“Great. Thanks.” The caller responded.

With that, the ominous first call was erased from the minds of viewers and focus was returned to current problem at hand.

Myra began her next call. “This is Myra.”

“What happens if I don’t get my ration tickets by Monday?”

Myra picked up the page still resting across her lap and quickly perused it. “Call your local ration office or report it on the website. To report it on the website you will want to go to your local web browser and type in ‘food rations offices.’ The websites are live. I don’t have a specific web address for you. Those addresses were not available when my notes were compiled by the studio.”

“You are so helpful Myra. Thanks for the information.”

“You’re welcome.”

“May I ask one more question?”

“Sure. What’s your question?”

“Is it true Area 51 is currently housing all the GRMN2 victims in the country? How long do they anticipate the expansion of Area 51 is going to take? Are they going to keep building indefinitely?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ignoring Myra’s response, the caller continued, “I was also curious. How long does it take talents to manifest in the Transformed? How long before this new race takes over the planet? Are they really going to save us all?”

Myra looked at Wyatt.

Wyatt looked back at Myra as their broadcast fell silent.

Ascension Part VII: Hump Day

 

Myra opened one eye. The first thing she saw was the offending empty smoothie container. She fought to remember what she had been doing before she drifted off.

Myra lifted a hand to her brow. Glimpsing her sleeve, she opened both eyes and focused. She pushed away the duvet covering her and sat up. Myra found herself still fully dressed in old clothes, she remembered she had been preparing to explore the attic when whatever was in the smoothie had taken effect. She knew she had laid back on the bed and fallen asleep. At some point during the night she managed to pull up two corners of her duvet and cover herself. Myra turned on to her stomach and stretched across the bed for her phone. It was a little after 8:45 am. She sat up and contemplated her options.

Although Myra was tired of being in the dark, she wanted to get to the truth without without anyone knowing what she was doing. If she mucked around in the attic this morning, she risked being discovered by Wyatt, he would know she was actively looking for something. Considering the events of recent days it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out what she was searching for.

Myra decided to wait. She would try again soon. During the day. The next time Wyatt was held up in the media room. She promised herself if something changed she would give up sneaking around and search the house any time Wyatt’s back was turned. Myra knew turning over a room whenever she had the smallest opening was not the best approach. Wyatt betrayed her trust when he slipped a sleeping aid into her smoothie. At the moment, she was not feeling concerned about betraying his.

“Come on. Come on.” Wyatt muttered as he searched through the furthest reaches of the small, tidy linen closet which housed any toiletries that wouldn't fit inside the bathroom medicine chest. He pulled out several items and discarded them pausing to wonder how a box of tampons had found a home at his place of residence. In the main house definitely, in the pool house sure, but here? He shoved the box back into its resting place. They might come in handy if Myra came back here and had an emergency or down the road, if things opened back up and he found himself entertaining a lady friend.

He reminded himself why he was mucking around in the linen closet, his third eye. “Who’s going to date me now?” He asked, releasing a sigh.

“Bingo.” At the back of a small shelf in the far left hand corner was a box of large bandages. He took them into the bathroom, placing gauze over the uncovered eye and the flesh colored bandage over the gauze, he surveyed his work. “That’s better. Now I need something to keep water out.” He returned to the linen closet for a shower cap. “Why this silly thing didn’t come with an eyelid I will never understand.” The only one he could find was tropical print covered complete with brightly colored flowers. He put it on and looked in the mirror. “Where did I put my swim cap? It’s in the pool house. It looks like I’m going to have to keep this on until I can get to the pool house at least. The things a space alien has to do to shower.” Wyatt shook his head as he removed his pajama bottoms.

By the time Wyatt returned to the bedroom his phone was going off. People were panicking about the new food ration tickets and they needed to get the new episode going by one o’clock at the latest. Wyatt sent text back to the studio outlining their plans for the episode.

The studio countered with: Don’t bother. Your packet is waiting for you at the main house, sit down with Myra, go over the information, there is a list of frequently asked questions and answers enclosed, get Myra ready and start broadcasting. Specific recipes can be addressed next week. Authorities need help NOW.

“I am being pulled from my own emergency into a five alarm blaze because a whole lot of people did not look at the potential problems that would arise when putting a plan into place without giving a head’s up to those being affected by said plan. Great. Never saw this one coming.” Wyatt rolled his eyes.

Myra had just finished showering when her phone beeped.

The studio has moved the broadcast back up to today. Our ration tickets and program packet are at the door. I will pick up the mailer and sanitize all reading material. Happy Wednesday. Meet me in the kitchen. Wyatt.

I just showered, will dress for the broadcast and do my make-up now to save time. See you in an hour. Myra.

This is a rush order make it thirty. Wyatt.

“Thirty minutes my ass.” Myra said as she turned from the phone back to the mirror. “I am the make-up artist and the boss, I will be ready when I’m ready.”

Myra arrived in the kitchen forty minutes later wearing an attractive yet conservative looking ensemble. Her hair was towel dried, combed and ready for styling, her make-up, immaculate.

“You’re late.” Wyatt said.

“Ten minutes with a third of your prep work done.” Myra countered. She looked at Wyatt, challenging him.

“Your make-up is a little heavier, rough night?” He asked.

“Rough morning. Something I drank didn’t agree with me.” Myra said, looking at Wyatt pointedly.

“Was the Greek yogurt too much?”

“No. It was one of your other special ingredients.” She looked at Wyatt and waited. No further information was offered nor would he admit he had done anything wrong. “Going swimming later?”

“What?”

“You’re wearing your pool cap.” Myra said, pointing to the black silicone cap with a gray stripe running through the middle stretched over Wyatt’s head.

“It’s the pandemic. I have gotten so lazy with my hair.”

“Something else is different…” She said as she stared at his head.

Both of their phones buzzed at the same time.

“It looks like this conversation is going to have to wait.” Wyatt said. He handed her a stack of paperwork carefully placed in sheet protectors. “You read this while I go set up the equipment. After I get your hair plaited we’re going live.”

Wyatt stood on the other side of the patio, behind the camera, “Three, two…” Myra watched as his mouth formed the word ‘One.’ No sound crossed his lips.

A man had been apprehended on her beach by the military, her best friend had betrayed her, and the studio was insisting on a question and answer session with the public regarding food rationing with practically no information at their disposal. Myra and Wyatt had been thrown into the deep end again with nothing but a single flotation device. At this moment she didn’t feel like she could trust Wyatt not to try and drown her.

“Good morning.” Myra smiled. “Welcome to another edition of ‘Sunny Days.’ Sit down, tune in because we are all weathering the storm together. I’m Myra Collins.” She and Wyatt changed angles indicating the opening was over and it was time to introduce the topic. Myra reset her smile to something more reserved and continued. “A new challenge has come to the state of California this week. A food shortage. The good news is there are plenty of food resources available, the bad news is there is an immense shortage of people available to process it. Until a vaccine can be developed for the GRMN2 virus and food processing can get back to normal food rationing will be taking place. California has implemented their program this week, it is anticipated other states will soon follow. Today is Wednesday, state officials are anticipating many people will get their books tomorrow, the number of recipients increasing on Friday and Saturday. Ninety-five percent of the state’s population will have their ration tickets by Monday afternoon. What does this mean for you and your family? It means when you go to the store you will be required to present a ration ticket for all food items being purchased. If you do not have a ticket for that item you will not be able to buy it. Keep in mind this is for the purchasing of food items only, it does not pertain to housekeeping, pet care or health and beauty supplies. Stores already have guidelines in place for the purchase of those items.”

Myra shifted positions again and turned. A speaker sat on the patio table in front of her. It was time to answer the screened calls the studio was forwarding to the house. Knowing she had fewer answers than some of her callers, Myra found these calls stressful and draining. “Wyatt...come say hello. Wyatt.” She smiled.

Wyatt waved his hand in front of the camera and called ‘Hello.’”

“Wyatt is shy, he’s also one of the best in the business. I am lucky to have him with me.” Myra announced. She hoped if nothing else guilt would help him open up later on. Myra returned to the task at hand. “Let’s take some calls.” She waited the cursory six seconds. “Hello this is Myra Collins and you’re on ‘Sunny Days.’ What’s your question?”

“What happened to the man on the beach?”

Ascension Part VI: Obstacles

 

Myra waited exactly twenty minutes. She walked to the window and looked outside. A light showed across the patio, disappearing along the beach. She watched as a light came on in the kitchen of the guest house and extinguished a few minutes later. Lights came on upstairs. Wyatt was doing his online chatting from his bedroom tonight. He was probably going to bed after his call ended. Wyatt seemed to tire more easily lately. The sleep would be good for him.She opened the homemade smoothie Wyatt recommended she taste and waited.

As anticipated, Wyatt’s bedroom light went out twenty minutes later. Myra waited and watched a bit longer, she wanted to be sure he had retired for the night before she risked turning on anything in the main house. The only way any of this was going to work was if Wyatt knew nothing about her plans.

Using the flashlight app on her phone Myra lowered the lamp from her nightstand to the floor before turning it on. She peeked through her blinds one more time to make sure nothing had changed at Wyatt’s. The lights were still out. The coast was clear.

Myra needed to get more information about what was happening in the world outside. Her days of living in the dark were coming to a close. They needed to end soon. If only she could get into the media room...without the password it was not an option. Getting a look around the guest house wasn't a possibility either.

Myra sat down on her bed, fluffed some pillows and leaned back against them. She thought about what she knew about her PA. What might lead her to the information she sought.

Wyatt is smart, kind, loyal, a morning person (which can be annoying at times), organized and forgetful. Forgetful...he is forgetful.

“He used annoy the crap out of me with all his sticky notes.” She thought back to earlier days, the first major film he assisted her through. Wyatt had only been working for her a couple of weeks. She stepped into her trailer to get changed at the end of a long and difficult day to find sticky notes around the entire perimeter of the bathroom mirror. In the center of the mirror was a birthday reminder for her sister. Myra recalled pointing out that she was not a stereotypical dumb blonde, she was an actress who rarely forgot her lines, there was no reason for him to be concerned she would forget her only sister’s birthday without the aid of a sticky note in front of her face.

The look on Wyatt’s face. It was at that moment he confessed he was forgetful at times, usually when stressed or nervous. He said working for her was a dream come true and confided he had been using all the sticky notes because he did not want to forget anything important, but everything seemed to be so important he seemed to be writing sticky notes all the time. She and Wyatt sat down together that evening and worked out a list of the types of things he should keep close track on and what type of things could fall through the cracks from time to time without being a complete tragedy.

Wyatt learned how to hide his sticky notes and adopted other techniques for remembering important information. As they got to know each other he learned how Myra did things and began anticipating her needs. He was the best PA she ever had as well as a good friend.

“I have to figure out where he’s been hiding his reminders.” Myra picked up her phone and opened a note taking app. “No not on the phone. Wyatt monitors my phone.” She pulled a notebook out of her nightstand. “A notebook is a bad idea too. He might search them if he thought he needed to. What about...” She slid from the side of her bed down to the floor. Myra reached out for her phone and pulled up the flashlight app. Using the light coming from the phone to look under the bed, she reached out and carefully pulled out an “under the bed” storage box. “Bingo.” She whispered. “I was hoping the last decorator hadn’t noticed you.” She lifted the lid and opened the container. Inside she found photo albums, one of her college yearbooks, copies of her first head shot, clips of her first reviews and planners. Each year had its own planner, full of the details of everything that needed to be done to keep an acting career moving. Her life...before Wyatt. She opened one, reading the entries, realizing how much simpler her life had become since Wyatt had entered it.

“You’ve always been there for me Wy.” She said, caressing the cover.

Myra put everything not needed away and settled herself back on the bed to brainstorm. She needed to compile a list of the places Wyatt was most likely to hide his reminders. She put her lamp back on the nightstand and got to work. Within a few minutes she had the possibilities narrowed down.

Attic

Garage

Pool House (not likely, he might have put a note there when pressed for time)

Spare Bedrooms

The storage room for the video and sound equipment.

Kitchen

Satisfied with her list, she hid the planner in her dresser underneath her heavy winter gloves and scarves, along with other items she only used when traveling.

“Where do I begin?” She asked. Her eyes traveled to the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll start at the top and work my way down.”

Myra yawned as she put on jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Attics were usually dusty. There might be spiders or something. Is five years long enough for spiders to move in? The yawning continued as she searched out the big flashlight Wyatt insisted she keep in the depths of her walk in closet for emergencies. What good a flashlight does hidden in the darkest corners of closet does she'd never understand. “Men.” She muttered under her breath. “I’m going to search the attic after I sit down for a minute.” She said, sticking the flashlight under the bed as she sat down. A wave of drowsiness hit her. She laid down, “Maybe if I lay down.” She had the urge to close her eyes, fighting it, she looked at the clock, it was only ten. She continued looking around the room her eyes stopping at her nearly empty smoothie bottle.

Myra whispered, “Wy?” The urge to sleep won the battle for control, pulling her into the depths of a dreamless slumber.

The bedroom shone bright with sunlight when Wyatt finally opened his eyes. With his headache gone he slept longer and more deeply then he had in weeks. Wyatt moved slowly, feeling no aches or pains, he climbed out of bed and crossed the room to the window. He needed to check on the main house. Myra’s blinds were closed, she was still in bed. He looked at the clock, 8:45—not too late. He would let Myra sleep until ten. They could follow the late morning schedule.

Wyatt went into the bathroom to take stock of what he had done the night before. He looked into the mirror as a space alien looked back at him. He did not know how to react, Wyatt liked to think of himself as a problem solver, finding comfort in resolving problems when they sprung up in life, he stared, taking in all the details, all of the changes. His head was a different shape. It appeared to have elongated. Most of the hair on his head was now gone. A single clump remained, standing stubbornly on top. Wyatt looked at his new oculus. It was the same shape as the other two, same color. It didn’t change focus as he leaned in to the mirror or backed away from it. He had a third eye but it didn’t seem to be doing anything.

What does the eye do? How do I make it work?

Wyatt closed the other two eyes. He waited several minutes, thinking if the third eye’s purpose was sight, he had just given it a good reason to begin working. Nothing happened.

“Experiment Two.” He said. Wyatt returned to his bedroom for an oversized bandanna. Folding it carefully he covered both eyes with the bandanna and secured it, tying both ends together behind his head. Wyatt waited for several minutes, once again nothing happened. He removed the bandanna. “I contracted the GRMN2 virus, managed to avoid spreading it to others, and recovered only to lose most of my hair, and grow a third eye which appears to do nothing. This is awkward.” He leaned in and studied it in the mirror. Wyatt looked into the third eye deeply. “An eye isn’t something which can be hidden easily with make-up either. What are you going to do Wyatt? What are you going to do?”