Phew, final chapter. Took a while to finish, I suppose...I wanted to make it seem believable and so on. But I don't think I developed the ending well enough. And now I'm wondering how many people looked for Guy Mitchell's song, My Heart Cries For You after reading this thing. Also, I made a small edit in the fourth chapter since it seems the 9-1-1 emergency thing didn't exist back in the 50's. Whoops. Anyways, please review.
He'd really done it now…
Jeffery sat at the dinner table, still in his clothes from two days ago sans lab coat, as Laura was still sleeping on the couch. He debated whether to wake her up or not. On one hand, the police could come here any moment. On the other, she was stressed already and didn't need anybody waking her up with more bad news. Then again, she would find out sooner or later…
The roach-man would have been the first to say that what he had just done last night was foolhardy and reckless and completely driven by anger. So many things could have gone wrong. He could have been seen. The supervisor could have actually been a very strong man. The police could have arrested him. In fact, they were probably coming to arrest him now. Nothing much was stopping the supervisor from reporting the incident to them…He didn't even know if Laura would actually be rehired.
Though it probably wouldn't matter in a while, he made sure to keep the blinds down. Stifled light pushed its way through, lighting the place up enough for him to see that the trashcan was not yet empty.
A little after Jeffery ate some breakfast, Laura finally woke up. She sat up, trying to smooth down her bed-hair, and draped her lab coat over her shoulders as if she was cold. The brown-haired woman peeked into the kitchen and, upon noticing her husband, smiled weakly at him. It was obvious she was still having difficulty trying to wrap her mind around the idea that she was married to what looked like a giant cockroach, but overall, she seemed to have accepted it.
"At least I don't have to wake up early anymore," she said, trying her best to sound cheery.
"Laura, I should tell you that - "
"I was always so tired at work because I woke up early, amazing how I never dozed off. Maybe now I can find another job that's close by! That way I don't have to wake up so early, right?" It seemed that Laura was trying to deal with what had happened recently by forcing herself to talk so cheerfully that the bad thoughts had no chance of floating to the surface.
"Yes, but I - "
"I always woke up so early, you were still asleep! Since you couldn't kiss me good-bye every morning, I'd always kiss you right before I got out of bed…oh, I never told you that before!" Jeffery blinked as his wife gave an airy but strained giggle. That was an odd thing to reveal.
He waited patiently for her to stop chattering, get it all out of her system, even though burly men could come bursting through the door any minute. The longer he waited, though, the more reluctant he felt about telling her.
Suddenly she said, "…May I kiss you…?" Jeffery's already large eyes widened in surprise. Laura started to put on her lab coat and looked at the floor, blushing. At that point, somebody kicked the front door down.
"What - " Laura started, whipping around quickly with her coat only half on, but then people who definitely were not the police burst into the kitchen, armored with helmets with visors and possibly bullet-resistant vests, most armed with large guns. This looked more like the army…
Suddenly, two men appeared beside Jeffery and roughly grabbed his arms. They pulled him out of the chair and were apparently strong enough to hold him in the air while they strode out the kitchen. Though he did expect something like this to happen, Jeffery still kicked and protested – he still hadn't gotten the chance to say good-bye, at least!
"What are you - " Laura had followed them into the living room but was stopped by two other men, who also took hold of her arms. She immediately started screaming, eyes beginning to tear up. "Let me go! You can't do this! He hasn't done anything!"
"Laura!" The cockroach-man tried to reach his hand towards his wife, but they were already too far apart and the men pulled him out of sight, through the front door.
What the hell did that supervisor say?! Jeffery saw that there were dozens of army jeeps surrounding the house, lining the street, and a large truck that would contain him for his trip. A few minutes later, the whump-whump-whump of a helicopter crescendoed and three appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Neighbors were trying to peer curiously out their windows but were blocked by other stony-faced soldiers.
The newly-captured scientist struggled some more and attempted to wrench his arms out of the men's grasp in vain. "Wait!" he cried. "I have to – I must – my wife - " Just then, Laura shot out of the house sounding an unearthly wail, her lab coat still half on, wielding the slightly damaged radio and a tall lamp. Several men immediately came running towards her, but she started swinging around the lamp like a sword, banging heads and kicking crotches, all the while screaming, "LET! HIM! GO!"
She actually managed to reach Jeffery. The two men at his side were momentarily distracted by the furious woman charging at them that their captive managed to bash one with the back of his head and punch the other off of him. Jeffery clutched onto Laura's outstretched arm, but another soldier immediately grabbed his other arm and pulled. Laura's lab coat slipped off and Jeffery was only left with the coat in his hands.
Laura tried to catch up again, but finally one man came from behind and wrenched the lamp from her grip. Her last act of defiance before being restricted by a group of soldiers was to hurl the leaking radio at someone's head. She never stopped that blood-curling cry when the soldiers huddled around her, pushing her back. After he was thrown in the large vehicle, even as the doors of the truck slammed shut in front of Jeffery, cutting off practically all light, he could still hear the pitiful wail. The truck rumbled away and Laura was soon out of hearing range, but he felt that her cry would echo in his head forever.
He didn't know how long he simply sat there on the floor of the truck, just staring at the doors. But eventually another man appeared from a corner. "Good woman," he drawled. "Gave two of my men a concussion with that lil radio."
Jeffery spared this newcomer a long look, not bothering to wonder where he had been hiding. He looked like the epitome of a military general. The stereotypical army cut, standing back straight and chest puffed out, neat uniform with gold buttons…he seemed the type to spontaneously shout, 'Drop and give me twenty!'
"Th' name's W. R. Monger," said the man. Jeffery made no hint of interest and turned back to the door. Monger frowned at this, but simply continued talking. "Our wiretap picked up a report t' the police about a late night assault. After the man reluctantly described a roach-man, the police put it off as insane ramblings." He paused, as if expecting Jeffery to say 'And you didn't?' When it was obvious he was only going to stroke the lab coat in his lap, Monger continued. "But I gathered my troops once we got permission to use an abandoned facility out in the middle o' nowhere for use of containment of monsters." He paused again, inviting some kind of conversation. At this point, he was even fine with an affronted shout of 'I'm not a monster!' and the roach-man trying to strangle him.
This silence was really unnerving. Monger sighed loudly. "Look, Dr. Hedison, you'll have t' talk to me sometime. This facility was just made. There'll be nobody else there. Frankly, everybody else is too disgusted to talk to you, or maybe afraid 'cause you're a mad scientist."
"I'm not a mad scientist," Jeffery shot back, still not turning around. Apparently he had struck a nerve.
"Son, whatever experiment you were doing down there made you part cockroach. I just saw some of your videos. You did some reeeeaaally crazy things in your basement." He was given the cold shoulder once again. Thinking for a bit, the general added, "You're a disgrace to scientists everywhere and your wife cheated on you." No furious flying tackles. This was gonna be a long trip.
After the truck ride, they took a winding trip by boat and finally by a small jeep into a desert. Jeffery didn't know who they were trying to shake off, but despite this being something new, they really wanted to keep the place secret.
"There it is," said the driver, pointing at a small bunker in the distance. "Area Fifty - " Monger immediately whacked him on the side of his head. "Sorry."
"It's not a big place yet," the general told Jeffery as the three of them jumped out of the jeep. Apparently he was very confident that the two of them could handle the captured scientist. "Not exactly everybody's convinced we really need this facility. So your room'll be somewhat like - "
"A prison cell," finished Jeffery hoarsely.
"I was gonna say, 'a motel room.'"
It was like a prison cell.
It was small, underground, mostly made of concrete, and there was the distinct sound of bugs scuttling around, out of sight. Kinda like his old basement. One side was made of glass for observation, as if he were a zoo animal. The door was heavy steel with several locks to prevent him from escaping. The light fixture above flickered every few seconds. The bed looked very uncomfortable.
When Jeffery sat down on the bed, his head still bowed down, the driver gave Monger a clipboard before leaving. "Apparently, your name has been changed to Dr. Cockroach."
"Is 'Doctor' supposed to be my first name now?" the man formerly known as Jeffery droned back.
Monger smirked, though he noticed even this jab had pitiful energy behind it. Hopefully the guy'll grow more responsive. "Dunno. Maybe your new full name's 'Dr. Jeffery Gregor Cockroach comma Ph dot D.'" The general's smile dropped when the man retreated back into silence.
God dammit, he didn't become a war hero to then become a therapist! He never signed up for the army to be dumped in the middle of a desert with, to be frank, a mad scientist! But still, he lingered. "What d'ya eat? I'll have t' tell the staff that." Monger waited for a bit. "It can get pretty boring in here, y'know. If ya want, I can bring in something t' occupy your time." More silence. "You can, I dunno, design stuff for this place. Make it more comfortable. Modern. Futuristic. Whatever." The silence was now as thick as canned chowder that had been left on the shelf too long. Finally, Monger left. The steel door shut with a loud bang.
He now only had two things to remember his old life by. The imprisoned monster just sighed and slipped on the lab coat. It still smelled of watermelons. Then Dr. Cockroach sang, soft and low.
"An uuunimportant quarrel was whaaaat we had,
"We haaaave to learn to live with the gooood and bad.
"Togetheeer we were happy; apaaaaart we're sad,
"This loooonliness is driving me maaaad…"
"Myyyyy heeaaarrt criiiees for you, siiiighs for you, diiies for you.
"And myyyy aarrrms loooong for you,
"Pleeeease come back to meeee…"